I'm Only Human
by RandomDude122
Summary: (Inspired by Death Korps of Justice) A Death Korps Watchmaster fights alongside his Astartes companion to retake an overrun city. After a battle with Chaos, both warriors are dragged into the Warp. An unknown force intervenes and deposits them into an alternate 3rd Millennium Earth. How will they react to this world of relative peace?
1. Siege of Korolis

Segmentum Obscurus, Cadian System. Home to the Cadian Shock Troops, an elite regiment of the Astra Militarum few could hope to match. They safeguarded their home planet Cadia, a fortress world famous for its close proximity to the Eye of Terror. Despite constant temptations from the Warp, Cadians maintained an unyielding faith in the God Emperor of Mankind. It was a perfect example of everything the Imperium of Man strived to be.

Ninety two million miles away, a massive revolt threatened the industrial world of Korolis. Armed rebels slaughtered the unprepared planetary defense force and executed their loyalist rulers. The Imperium, believing the traitors would soon collapse from resource shortages or infighting, chose not to intervene. However, the rebels had different plans. Orbital defenses and ground-based laser batteries were constructed by the thousands. Troops were conscripted and trained. Underground bunkers were linked together to form a planet-wide network. Soon, Korolis had its eyes set on conquest. Prosan, Solar Mariatus, Macharia, Kasr Sonnen, and Vigilatum were conquered in the span of a month. Four Cadian Shock Trooper regiments were sent to pacify the rebels, who at this point were equal to the best Imperial Guard units. Two regiments were slaughtered, while the rest sustained heavy casualties. It was the worst defeat in Cadian history.

The Imperium was quick to respond. Five Adeptus Astartes companies, sixteen Imperial Guard regiments, and three fleets were gathered in secrecy to form an overwhelming task force. Five regiments in particular stood out amongst the millions of untrained guardsmen. The Cadian Shock Troops, eager to avenge their fallen brethren, sent two exceptional regiments to form the main invasion force. With them were the Catachan Jungle Fighters, Elysian Drop Troopers, and Tallarn Desert Raiders, who would work in their favored environments to cripple the rebel forces. The last regiment belonged to a feared fighting force that emphasized strength and lethality.

The Death Korps of Krieg.

Battle was first joined above the besieged Kasr Holn, a fortress world three million miles away from Cadia. The rebel fleets, believing Imperial aid to be years away, were unprepared for a counterattack. Hundreds of ships were destroyed on both sides, but the loyalists endured. With a mix of strategy, firepower, and luck, the traitors were defeated. The battle dealt a massive blow to their navy, which no longer possessed the capacity to wage war. A year-long campaign began which saw the rebels lose world after world, culminating in a final battle above Korolis itself. What remained of the rebel fleet was destroyed, allowing the loyalists to begin an assault on the planet's cities. Each one fought tooth and nail, but the swarm of Imperial Guardsmen overtook them. Finally, the capital was surrounded and cut off from support. A massive artillery bombardment commenced. Celebrations broke out amongst the loyalist ranks. This campaign would soon be over.

**F.O.B Emperor's Fury…**

The forward operating base was in a festive mood. Commissars and guardsmen alike celebrated the battle's nearing end with liquor, music, and "fraternization" amongst the ranks. Even the stone-cold Astartes joined in, hosting fight clubs and marksmanship competitions. Their commanding officers turned a blind eye, not caring for the actions of their troops unless they damaged Imperial property or disobeyed orders. Everyone was having a good time. Near the armory, however, the mood was ecstatic. A lone Krieg guardsman stood shirtless in a makeshift boxing ring. He was five foot ten in height and possessed musculature that put some Custodes to shame. His right shoulder bore an aquila tattoo, the symbol of mankind. A thin veil of sweat covered his body, accentuating the numerous battle scars that lined his torso. Hundreds of guardsmen watched him atop Leman Russ tanks and Chimera APCs.

"Our Krieg guardsman has crushed the opposition, but can he win against his next opponent?" The announcer yelled through a megaphone. "From the Realm of Ultramar, we have Dresden Terros, a Scout Marine!" Everyone cheered and handed bets to their commissars.

"The Kreiger's dead meat, I'm betting on the Astartes." A guardsman muttered to his friend.

"Lukas, if you wish to forfeit, do it now. Nobody here will think any less of you." The Krieg guardsman, revealed to be Lukas, shook his head.

"I will endure." His voice was emotionless, but held determination. Nods of encouragement came from the dozens of Krieg guardsman watching.

"Contestants, make your way to the center of the ring!" Dresden emerged from the shadow of a Chimera APC. He was seven foot four in height wore a pair of camouflaged green pants. His exposed torso was just as, if not more paler then Lukas', and held musculature no mortal could ever hope to attain, much less survive. The crowd was silent. To see an Astartes in the flesh was a rare thing, indeed.

"Hello, Dresden." Lukas said, receiving a nod in response. Both knew each other from a previous campaign against the Necrons in Segmentum Pacificus, and considered each other close friends.

"What are you doing here?" Dresden said. His voice was deep and emotionless, sending chills down the audience's spine.

"My commissar ordered me to participate." Lukas responded. Dresden nodded and stretched his arms.

"Shake hands and prepare for the fight of a lifetime!" The crowd went from silent to ecstatic in seconds. While records did exist of guardsmen killing Space Marines, each kill was made at long range with a high-powered lasgun or heavy explosives. Most unaugmented humans stood no chance up close.

"Are you sure about this?" The Scout Marine asked. Lukas nodded.

"I am." The two shook hands and backed away. Lukas wiped the blood from his split knuckles and assumed a boxing stance.

"Let the match begin!"

Lukas and Dresden circled the ring's makeshift edges, moving closer to each other every second. Lukas feigned a right hook, causing Dresden to flinch and raise his arm to block. The Krieger kicked his exposed side and shovel punched his stomach, causing the Scout Marine to throw a jab and cross. He blocked each punch, but the force behind them made him stagger. Dresden took advantage and released a massive overhand, sending the Krieger flying backwards. Lukas jumped up and backed away, he couldn't afford to be on the offensive. Dresden charged forward with another overhand, which Lukas dodged. A smile crossed his opponent's face. _I fucked up. _He thought. The look in Dresden's eyes affirmed that statement. He brought his leg up and sidekicked Lukas into a Leman Russ tank. The blow knocked the air out of him, but didn't break any bones. On Krieg, recruits were given genetic augmentations to increase their strength, durability, and speed. While not as effective as a Space Marine's, they did their job. Lukas rolled to the side, avoiding a front kick that would've shattered his ribs like glass. He jumped behind Dresden and got him in a rear-naked choke. It lasted for ten seconds before he was thrown off, landing in the dirt with a thud. The crowd was silent.

"One, two...what's this? Our Krieg guardsman rises! The fight continues!" Lukas stood up and brushed himself off.

"I'm impressed, Lukas. Krieg needs more Watchmasters like you." Dresden cracked his knuckles.

"You're not a Battle Brother yet?" Lukas responded. Dresden shook his head and raised his fists.

Lukas threw a side kick, which Dresden caught with his left arm. The Krieger grabbed his shoulder and bicep, preventing any attempts at a takedown. He moved forward, sliding his leg further into the Scout Marine's curled arm. He moved his hand to Dresden's neck and pulled downwards, kneeing his opponent in the face. Lukas stepped backwards and twisted his hand, forcing Dresden to the ground. He grunted and turned to face Lukas, placing his foot on his hip and hand around his ankle. The Scout Marine pushed with his foot and pulled with his hand, causing Lukas to land flat on his back. Dresden scrambled into an armbar position and leaned backwards, waiting for the Krieger to tap. Lukas, unfazed by the growing pain in his right arm, got on his knees and shovel punched Dresden's side. The Scout Marine showed no signs of pain, and increased the force behind his armbar. He continued punching, leaving a mark on his opponent's side. Dresden lifted his leg and placed it on Lukas' neck. Before he could react, the Krieger was slammed into the ground. His arm was pulled from its socket and shattered, producing a crack that made the audience cringe. Lukas grunted in pain and tried to get back on his knees, but Dresden's leg pushed him into the dirt.

"One, two, three, end of match! The winner is Dresden Terros for his unique armbar submission!" The crowd roared in approval. "Of course, we must give credit to our Krieg guardsman, who came close to winning!"

"You did good, Lukas." Dresden said.

"Thank you, Dresden." The former opponents shook hands.

"Someone get the Krieger to a medical tent. His arm looks broken." Two Cadian medics entered the ring and checked him over.

"Ten external bruises and lacerations on the knuckles. Scan him for anything internal." The other medic produced a black scanner from his kit.

"Hold still." A dim red light covered the Krieger's front side. "He's got a moderate concussion and a shattered right arm. Nothing we can't fix."

"Follow us." Lukas nodded.

**Thirty minutes later...**

Lukas left the medical tent with no visible injuries, save for his bandaged knuckles. The advanced capabilities of Imperial medicine had worked their wonders, healing his concussion and broken arm in under half an hour. He saw Dresden leaning against a wooden pole across from the tent, adorned in full scout armor. Lukas walked towards the Scout Marine, ignoring the looks he received from other Guardsmen.

"How is your arm?" Dresden asked.

"It's healed." He glanced at his wristwatch. "Curfew in six minutes."

"Let's go. You should be well-rested for tomorrow." They started walking.

"Tomorrow's battle marks the ending of our fifth campaign." Lukas said.

"A fitting end to this friendship, I suppose. You, a Krieg officer, and me, a Battle Brother. Our paths will never again intertwine." A frown adorned Dresden's face.

"Then we make the last moments count. The 83rd Regiment will be reinforced with two Astartes squads."

"I am aware. My captain informed me five hours ago." Lukas nodded. Both men noticed the increase of Krieg guardsmen around them.

"Goodnight, Dresden." The Scout Marine placed his hand on Lukas' shoulder before leaving.

Lukas received looks from thousands of guardsmen as he searched for his tent. He was surprised how fast word had spread of his duel with Dresden, but quickly brushed it off. Vital tasks needed completion, and gossip would set him back. _There it is, number three fifty. _He entered the open tent and zipped its entrance shut. His sleeping bag occupied the tent's left side, and almost reached the entrance. It was light tan in color and had extra padding for durability and comfort. Next to it was his rucksack, a nylon pack reinforced with a kevlar weave. Its straps were attached to a utility belt with various pouches/satchels, a canteen, a sheathed bayonet, and an entrenching tool. His Lucius Pattern Lasgun, the standard issue weapon of all Krieg regiments, was strapped to the rucksack's side. It had increased stopping power when compared to other lasguns, but at the cost of ammunition capacity and automatic fire. These drawbacks mattered little, its stopping power made up for any defects. Lukas removed his pants and unzipped his sleeping bag. After climbing inside it, he drifted off to sleep.

**Eight hours later…**

Lukas was awakened by an incessant beeping sound. He unzipped his sleeping bag and sat up, flicking his wrist watch to disable the alarm. Without thinking, he left the tent and joined thousands of other guardsmen. Their collective destination was the shower hall, where they would clean themselves and shave. He entered an unoccupied stall and twisted the handle, releasing a stream of lukewarm water. It took thirty seconds for him to finish showering. After turning the water off, he wrapped a towel around his waist and began shaving, with the goal of finishing as soon as possible. While he did recognize the health benefits of personal hygiene, it took up valuable time and resources that were sometimes irreplaceable. It was best not to go overboard and stick to the bare minimum. The Krieger dried off and left the shower hall. He needed to get dressed.

Lukas donned a new pair of undergarments and green fatigues, which were lightweight and somewhat effective at repelling environmental hazards. Next came his flak armor, a common form of protection within the Imperium that could stop everything up to a heavy stubber. Against a lasweapon, it could only withstand glancing blows. He fastened the shoulder pauldrons, elbow pads, knee pads, forearm guards, and greaves to webbed sections of his fatigues. The Krieger checked everything over before attaching the final piece of armor, a carapace breastplate. Carapace armor was superior to flak armor, but cost more to manufacture and distribute. For that reason, it was reserved for Watchmasters and Officers of the Death Korps. He put on a pair of black gloves, white socks, and steel-tipped tan boots. Each item was waterproof and made to last.

The last pieces of attire were his greatcoat and overalls. Both were thick olive green garments that offered complete protection against radiation, chemical, and biological threats. They also acted as a second layer of armor, able to stop hundreds of stubber rounds and several hits from a lasgun before failure. Two metal pauldrons covered his shoulders, both dark grey in color but different in size. The smaller plate had a white "83" printed on its exterior, while the larger one had the word 'WATCHMASTER" in all capital letters. Beneath it was a golden aquila and rank insignias. In addition to all this, the greatcoat/overalls were waterproof, comfortable, and very warm.

"This is Commissar Hannibal. All Guardsmen must report to their mess halls by 0444. Over." A commissar announced through the base's Vox speakers. Lukas exited his tent and walked towards his assigned mess hall.

When compared to other regiments of the Imperial Guard, the Death Korps were often different in many ways. They never interacted with guardsmen of other regiments, instead choosing to keep to themselves. When in a crowded area, they sought out other Kriegers, like lost wolves searching for a pack member. Lukas was no different. Unfortunately for him, no other Kriegers were present.

"So I charged the filthy greenskin with nothing but an empty lasgun and my faith in the God-Emperor!" He ignored the rambling Cadian. While the Emperor was indeed powerful and wise, he was no god. Dresden had convinced him of that.

"Shut up Keld, all of us have charged an Ork before." Another Cadian quipped from across the table.

"What about that lad?" Lukas glanced upwards at an older man with silver black hair. "Yeah, you. Have you ever charged an Ork?"

"Never fought them." The Krieger replied emotionlessly. Everyone else nodded.

"Is this your first campaign? I don't mean to brag, but I've survived two so far." The once-rambling Cadian said with pride.

"I've survived four." Everyone stared at him with wide eyes and shocked faces. Surviving a single campaign was a miracle, but four? He might as well be an Astartes.

"How old are you, lad?"

"16." He looked downwards and resumed eating, unaware of the looks he received.

"Someone so young participated in four campaigns? Those Kriegers are a tough breed." One Cadian whispered.

"What did you fight, lad?" Lukas sighed. Cadians were overly talkative and idiotic.

"Faced Necrons twice, fought rebels and daemons in between." The Cadian nodded and started eating. _At least one of them knows how to shut up._

"SHUT YOUR TRAPS!" A commissar screamed. Everyone looked at him. "All NCOs and commissioned officers are to report to their respective battle tents! Am I clear?!"

"YES COMMISSAR!" The entire mess hall screamed. Lukas got up and left.

"Wait, you're an officer?" The guardsmen at his former table asked. He nodded and left.

**Battle Tent Delta Kilo 8…**

"09993984-Finn, you will move through the sector F-1 and link up with squad three. From there, you will enter this skyscraper and clear it of all hostiles. The heretics have two hundred artillery pieces and thousands of snipers stationed there, which prevent us from moving troops through this shaded portion of the city. With it gone, we can secure the central roadways leading to the capitol building without fear of bombardment. After defeating the hostiles, you will hold the skyscraper until reinforcements arrive. This battle depends on you, and if you survive, I'll see to it that you and your squad are promoted. Expect support from three Grenadier squads and two Astartes. Dismissed." An officer said. He stood in front of a board with an overhead view of the capitol projected onto it.

"Why not destroy it with our own artillery, sir? Is there a void shield generator?" Another watchmaster asked.

"Yes, it is protected by a void shield. Five locations have them." He turned towards Lukas. "09831472-Lukas, you will move through sector I-4. The factories there are producing munitions, and need to be destroyed as soon as possible. They are also protected by void shielding and anti-air batteries, which prevent our bombers from crossing into sector F-1 and F-2. You will destroy the void shields and main reactor with pulse charges. From there, you will follow this yellow pipeline that will bring you into sector R-2's outskirts. Rest there and link up with the Tallarn Desert Raiders in sector I-2. You will receive further instructions from the platoon's CO. Be warned, there is a possibility of poison gas from sector F-1 drifting to your location. Expect support from a Grenadier squad and one Astartes. Dismissed." Lukas saluted and left the tent. Something told him that Dresden would be joining him on this mission.

**Deployment tarmac, two hours later...**

Lukas stood in front of fifteen elite Death Korps guardsmen. Eight men were Grenadiers, battle-hardened veterans who carried powerful Hellguns and wore full carapace armor. Five were normal infantrymen, the novices of this mission, and two were engineers. The final man (if he could be called that) was Dresden Terros.

"We have ten minutes before deployment! I want a final equipment check! All Grenadiers and Dresden, for now, this check does not apply to you!"

"Yes sir!" The Grenadiers and Scout Marine yelled. Everyone else, including Lukas, opened their packs.

"Lucius Pattern Lasgun, helmet, gas mask, the Krieg Uplifting Primer, and flak armor! If you forgot any of these things, Dresden will put a .75 caliber bolt through your head!" Everyone raised their hands, telling him they had their equipment.

"Five fragmentation grenades, three krak grenades, two photon flash grenades, poor weather gear, cold weather gear, spare fatigues, sewing kit, sleeping bag, isolation mat, mess kit, lamp pack, backup respirator, four faceplate masks, bayonet, and entrenching tool!" Each hand went up.

"Ten lasgun charge packs, two one-quart canteens, two two-quart canteens, multi-tool, five empty sandbags, blanket, hydration bladder, two oxygen canisters, medical kit, personal grooming kit, survival kit, four weeks of rations, weapon maintenance kit, basic toolkit, and gas mask maintenance kit!" Each hand went up.

"Good. Open your assault packs!" The Krieger waited.

"Sir, assault packs are ready!"

"Hydration bladder, two one quart canteens, gas mask maintenance kit, weapon maintenance kit, medical kit, spare fatigues, two weeks of rations, and four faceplate masks!" Each hand went up.

"The squad is combat ready, sir!" Lukas nodded. He donned his gas mask, which linked to his collar to form an airtight seal. A silent hiss told him it was working. He strapped his helmet on and moved to the Grenadiers. "Prepare for an equipment check."

"Yes sir!" The Krieger cleared his throat.

'Type IXV Lasgun, ten fragmentation grenades, five krak grenades, helmet, gas mask, backup respirator, four faceplate masks, entrenching tool, gas mask maintenance kit, Hellgun maintenance kit, one week of rations, short sword, and carapace armor!" Each hand went up. Grenadiers were always prepared for any mission. He would kill for the chance to become one again. "All of you are prepared for this mission! Gas masks and helmets on!"

"Yes sir!" The Grenadiers had their gas masks and helmets on in two seconds, a feat that took ten seconds for the normal infantry. _They'll get the hang of it or end up dead._

"All guardsmen, please report to your transportation." A voice said over the Vox speakers. The hundreds of other units around the tarmac boarded planes, APCs, and light vehicles. Lukas would be taking a Gorgon APC with four other squads.

"Men, fall out!"

"Yes sir!" The group entered a Gorgon APC and stood at the back. After delivering a squad, the driver would retreat to a safe distance and restart the process. To ensure casualties remained at a minimum, each squad would be deployed to areas with natural cover.

"Take this. It's repayment for all the good times." Dresden handed him a beautiful golden pendant. Both sides had a silver Imperial Aquila, which clutched a flaming sword and banner in its talons. It looked very detailed, almost real. Lukas noticed the words, _Regroup in Hell _and _Will of the Emperor_ inscribed on the banner. Behind it was the Emperor of Mankind. He stood atop a small hill behind a massive ship, holding a blue greatsword that was extended above his head. He was clad in silver Terminator Armor with a large cape and lightning claw. His face was turned away, but the Krieger could see his strong jawline and smooth skin. Anything else was concealed by the Emperor's long hair, which fluttered behind him. Hundreds of Ultramarines marched below him, Bolters held against their chests.

"...Beautiful." Dozens of guardsmen stared at the pendant in wonder. Lukas flicked it upwards. To his surprise, there was no glint.

"It's made of tinted aurumite and adamantium. No glint or reflection." The Krieger nodded and placed it around his neck.

"We're deploying now. The Emperor protects." The Gorgon's drivers said over a Vox speaker. Lukas tucked the pendant underneath his greatcoat and braced himself as the engines roared to life.

**Outskirts of Sector I-4, Korolis Capitol…**

Lukas glanced at his wristwatch. _0500, three minutes left._ He looked to the side, checking his squad for anything wrong. Half were engaged in a group prayer to the Emperor, something he considered foolish. The Krieger shook his head and attached his bayonet to his lasgun. _One minute now. _He stood up and walked to the front of the Gorgon.

"One minute! Fix bayonets and form up!" The squad formed into a neat column and attached bayonets to their lasguns. Dresden loaded his shotgun and stood next to Lukas.

"You ready?" The Krieger nodded. He would redeem himself for the crimes of his ancestors, that much was certain. "Squad, disable safeties!" Dresden yelled. Silent clicks filled the cabin.

"For the Emperor." A Grenadier muttered. Bullets and lasfire ricocheted off the Gorgon's thick armor.

"It's getting thick, prepare to disembark!" The driver said. Lukas nodded and scrambled to the front.

"Form up! We're deploying!" The doors opened, unleashing a tidal wave of stubber and lasfire into the cabin. Everyone rushed outside and into the open.

Lukas and his squad sprinted towards a rock formation that would offer ample cover. He raised his lasgun and returned fire, hitting two rebels in a pillbox. A stubber round impacted his helmet and chest, sending him to the ground. Pain shot through his forehead and neck. The Krieger pushed himself up and sprinted to cover, where the rest of his squad waited. He glanced above the rocks and looked around. They were one hundred meters away from the enemy.

"Grenadiers, provide cover!" He yelled. They saluted and stood up, firing their Hellguns into pillboxes and machine gun nests. An engineer threw a krak grenade at a pillbox and ducked. They couldn't hear the explosion over the gunfire. "Move up!"

The squad advanced, running straight at the enemy positions. Stubber rounds bounced off their flak armor and greatcoats. One infantryman was unlucky and received a lasgun bolt to the face. His head exploded, splattering blood everywhere. Another infantryman grabbed the corpse and used it as a human shield. Dresden was the first to reach the enemy, unloading his shotgun into a trench. Lukas jumped over a line of barbed wire and into another trench, startling the rebels inside it. He saw their ragged uniforms and dirty weapons for a split second before landing. The Krieger rammed his bayonet through the flak armor of a machine gunner and twisted, puncturing his heart. He kicked the corpse off and turned around, firing two shots at a rifleman. One hit the traitor's arm, blowing it off with a sickening rip. A rebel fired at him with an automatic stubber, pushing him backwards. An infantryman saw this and opened fire, downing the traitor.

"DEATH TO THE CORPSE EMPEROR!" A rebel swiped at the infantryman with a chainsword, cutting through his shoulder and neck. "Weak Imperial scum!" He turned to face Lukas, who had fallen into a muddy puddle.

"Die, traitor!" He placed his left foot on the rebel's hip and hooked the right around his calf, making him grunt. In an instant, the traitor was flat on his back. The Krieger grabbed his entrenching tool and used the sharp side to hack at the rebel's face.

Lukas got up and grabbed his lasgun. His squad was no doubt scattered around the trenches, fighting tooth and nail to survive. He reattached his entrenching tool to his belt and ran towards the nearest Krieger, a Grenadier locked in combat with two chainsword-wielding rebels. The Krieger rammed his bayonet through one rebel's back, making him scream in pain. He fired his lasgun and twisted it to the side, ramming the other rebel with his friend's corpse. He flung the body off his lasgun and fired at the dazed rebel, hitting his abdomen and right elbow. The traitor screamed in pain as his forearm detached from his body. He clutched the bleeding stump of his arm and fell to his knees, glaring at Lukas with defiant eyes. The Krieger kicked the rebel's windpipe shut and gestured for the Grenadier to follow him.

"Lukas! Two Grenadiers made it across the enemy lines! Gather the squad up!" Dresden yelled from atop a pillbox.

"Got it! Go help them!" Lukas ran through the trenches, gathering members of his unit. Two Grenadiers and one infantryman died in the assault. They took what they could and left the bodies.

Two Grenadiers stood in the middle of a trench supply road, firing their Hellguns into the unending horde of rebels. Lukas noticed their power packs were open, lighting a spark of nostalgia within him. When a Hellgun fires, it generates a large amount of heat. By opening the power pack, the heat could be redirected to charge the power cells and provide more shots. The Krieger used the trick quite often.

"You two, flank them." He said to a pair of infantrymen. They climbed out of the trench and used parked trucks as concealment. Lukas rushed up the road and took a knee, firing his lasgun at the rebels. A lasgun bolt struck Lukas' abdomen, pushing him back. Some rebels turned sideways, directing their attention to the two infantrymen.

Lukas got up, ignoring the increasing pain in his head and torso. He raised his lasgun and charged with a battlecry, inspiring his squad to do the same. The rebels had made a critical mistake, one that would cost them their lives. He stabbed one in the liver and slashed sideways, leaving deep gashes wherever he cut. A feral growl escaped his lips. He fired into the thinning horde, taking dozens of hits from lasguns and stubber rounds. Dresden emerged from a building and unloaded his bolt pistol into the crowd. One bolt went through ten rebels and a rockcrete wall. Needless to say, it didn't take long for the rebel force to expire.

"Where are we?" An engineer asked.

"This group of factories is guarded by several checkpoints. We're in the outer ring." An infantryman said.

"We move through the alleyways. Take their ammunition." The squad procured an extra eight power cells before vanishing into an alley.

Lukas pointed at a ladder next to a stack of wooden crates. A perimeter was formed as everyone climbed up. It appeared the wider base was now aware of them, so caution needed to be exercised to preserve the element of surprise. The Krieger detached his bayonet and snuck behind a rooftop guard. He placed a gloved hand over his mouth and plunged the blade deep into his neck. An engineer dragged the body away. _Only two more rooftops to go, then we'll be in the perfect position. _The squad leapt across the rooftops and killed dozens of guards. Soon, they were all on the final rooftop, which overlooked the void shield generator and armory.

"Grenadiers, firing line." The remaining Grenadiers moved to the rooftop's edge and aimed their weapons. "Engineers, ready grenade launchers." The engineers removed their packs, which held twenty grenades each, and readied their launchers. "Fire!"

A hail of lasfire and krak grenades rained down on the armory. Hundreds were torn to shreds or vaporized by grenade explosions. Some tried to form a resistance, but the Grenadiers ensured that wouldn't happen. Meanwhile, Lukas and the other infantrymen were protecting the rooftop from intruding rebels.

"I'm hit." An infantryman said. Lukas nodded and ordered a Grenadier to cover for him. Under normal circumstances, he would just kill the soldier with a bayonet to the throat, but every man was needed for this mission. _He got lucky._

"Hold still." A gaping hole adorned his right shoulder plate. The stubber round managed to hit a weak spot and appeared to be stuck in his collarbone. Lukas removed the infantryman's medical kit from his rucksack and pulled it open. He produced sterile tweezers and reached into the wound, removing the stubber round in one fluid motion.

"Lukas, the void shield is down." Dresden said. Lukas nodded and injected the infantryman with a healing agent. After bandaging the wound, he stood up and reattached his bayonet.

"Get your medical kit sealed." Lukas turned to the rest of his squad. "We're heading to the main reactor. Shoot anything that moves."

"Yes sir." Everyone said.

Lukas saw a massive white cloud approaching his location from the East. He pulled a white plastic strip from his utility belt and held it in the air. It turned light red after five seconds, signaling the presence of poisonous gas. If he were to guess by the color, chlorine gas. Everyone else noticed and checked the seals on their gas masks. Dresden grabbed a mask from his belt and placed it over his face.

"Let's go." The squad leapt down. A single rebel groaned in pain, unaware of his missing lower half. The Krieger saw bits of his charred intestines scattered around the rooftop. Dresden placed his foot on the rebel's head and pushed.

"Traitorous bastard." He gradually increased the pressure, causing small cracks to form in his skull that made the rebel cry out in pain. "For the Emperor." He removed his foot and aimed his bolt pistol at the man's arm. He fired, detaching the limb, and walked away.

"Good job." Lukas said, patting the Scout Marine's back. They ignored the rebel's cries.

The squad stood on a catwalk just above the factory. Thousands of workers went about their duties, unaware of the Kriegers above them. Lukas ordered the engineers to use fragmentation grenades for their launchers. He stood with his back faced to the squad, guarding the catwalk for any rebels. An infantryman tapped his shoulder and signaled "ready". He nodded and pointed at a group of promethium tanks. An engineer aimed his grenade launcher and fired, engulfing half of the factory in flames. Workers and rebels alike scrambled everywhere for cover. Some lasfire impacted the catwalk, melting the metal safety rails. The remaining infantrymen knelt down and fired back.

"Dresden, get down there." Lukas said. Dresden nodded and jumped off the catwalk. He drew his combat knife, a blade that rivaled a short sword in length, and charged the enemy. To everyone else, he appeared as a green blur.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" The Scout Marine slashed at a rebel holding a longlas and kicked another into the wall. Three more were killed by his bolt pistol. Another charged with a combat knife, stabbing him in through a weak point of his armor. Dresden turned around and backhanded him, twisting his neck and sending him flying. An infantryman shot a rebel holding a plasma gun, but the traitor lived long enough to fire six shots shots. They impacted Dresden's back and lower leg, sending him to the ground. A trio of lasfire bolts impacted the rebel, causing his plasma gun to explode.

"DRESDEN!" Lukas yelled. The Scout Marine groaned in pain and attempted to stand, but his wounds were too severe. He collapsed and ceased all movement. "Grenadiers, move up! Engineers, get to the reactor! The rest of you, keep the rebels off this catwalk!"

Lukas entered a maze of pipes, conveyor belts, and industrial tanks. He moved around a promethium tank and fired, hitting a factory worker in the chest. The woman raised her bloodied hand and whispered something he couldn't hear. The Krieger plunged his bayonet through her skull and continued onwards. A rebel jumped out at him with a hammer and nail gun, swinging at him with reckless abandon. He ducked under the swing and slammed the butt of his lasgun into his opponent's liver. The traitor backpedaled and fired his nail gun. Each shot bounced off his helmet and greatcoat. _Pitiful traitor._ He stomped on the man's throat and left him to choke. Lukas jumped over a red pipe and looked upwards. The infantrymen were fighting off dozens of rebels by themselves. One slashed a rebel's throat with his bayonet and knocked another out with an uppercut. _They've been trained well. If they survive, I might recommend a promotion to Grenadier. _Dresden's harsh groans were getting louder.

"It's the Watchmaster! Cease fire!" A Grenadier yelled. Lukas rushed around and corner and knelt next to Dresden.

"Bastards." He muttered. The Scout Marine had several fourth-degree burns, two on his mid to lower back and one on his calf.

"Lukas...is that you?" The Krieger nodded and injected Dresden with healing agents. Even a veteran Astartes couldn't heal from plasma wounds without medical assistance.

"Sir, the rebels are counterattacking!" An infantryman yelled.

"Tell the engineers to detonate the melta charges, and to hurry up with the reactor!" The Grenadier nodded and ran down the catwalk. Before they entered the building, Lukas had ordered the engineers to plant melta charges around the factory's perimeter. Nothing would survive the ring of explosions.

"DIE, IMPERIAL SCUM!" A rebel sergeant rushed towards him. One hand was adorned with a lightning claw, and the other held a chainsword.

Lukas ducked underneath the blade and fired his lasgun at the rebel's side. To his surprise, the shot didn't penetrate. _Bastard has carapace armor. _He rolled backwards and fired six times, but each shot did nothing. His lasgun clicked, signaling it was out of power. The Krieger cursed and charged forward, bayonet aimed for the man's heart. The rebel raised his foot and slammed it down, pushing his bayonet into the ground. Lukas had no weapons. The traitor growled and pressed his attack, swiping at him with his lightning claw and chainsword. He grabbed his entrenching tool and slashed at the rebel's chest, cutting through a thin layer of armor. The rebel thrust his chainsword forward, which he evaded with a role. The Krieger slashed and hacked at the man, trying to get through his armor. He left only scratches.

"Fool! Nothing you have can penetrate my armor!" Lukas glanced over to Dresden's still form, and noticed his bolt pistol a few feet away. He kicked the rebel's head and sprinted towards it. The Krieger rolled to the left, evading a flying chainsword that embedded itself into the wall.

"For the Emperor!" Lukas screamed. He picked up the bolt pistol and fired a single shot. The .75 caliber bolt went through the rebel's chest and three conveyor belts before stopping. He reattached his entrenching tool to his belt and grabbed his lasgun, replacing the dead power cell with a fresh one.

"...Nice shot." Dresden groaned. He grabbed the bolt pistol and attached it to his belt. Lukas placed his hands under Dresden's shoulders and hauled him through a massive hole in the wall. His squad rushed outside through a door, firing at a rebel vehicle that was speeding towards them.

"Get its tires!" A Grenadier yelled. The truck turned around and stopped, revealing a heavy stubber. His body was riddled with stubber rounds, penetrating his carapace armor and killing him. Dresden raised his bolt pistol and fired a round, killing the machine gunner and driver.

"Squad!" Lukas yelled. They turned around with their weapons raised, but lowered them as soon as they saw who it was. "You two, get over here!" A pair of Grenadiers ran over and helped them haul Dresden to the truck.

"Sir, may I recommend commandeering the enemy vehicle?" A Grenadier asked. Lukas nodded.

"How many did we lose?" The Krieger asked.

"Sir, including this one, we've lost three Grenadiers. Eight men are left, and two are wounded." An infantryman said.

"Get in the truck." Five men got into the truck, and three rode in the back. Dresden had gone unconscious again, and was slumped in the back. Lukas manned the heavy stubber, and a grenadier assisted him with loading.

"We're all set, sir! The melta charges and pulse charges should detonate in two minutes!" An engineer behind the wheel yelled.

"Drive us to the yellow pipeline!" The engineer nodded and floored the gas pedal.

A deafening explosion awoke Dresden from his unconsciousness. He raised his head and looked at the massive fireball behind them. Five seconds later, the shockwave arrived, collapsing weaker buildings, shattering windows, and pushing the truck to the side. The driving engineer twisted the wheel, avoiding a catastrophic collision. Lukas glanced at Dresden from underneath his gas mask.

"Did we do it? Is the reactor destroyed?" Dresden asked.

"It's gone now." Lukas fired a burst of stubber rounds at a squad of rebels, killing most of them. "We're heading to the transportation depot. It should be heavily guarded."

"I see." Dresden examined his bolt pistol. "Thank you for dragging me out of there."

"You've done the same for me." The Scout Marine chuckled.

"Segmentum Ultima was a hellhole." Lukas nodded in agreement. He still had the scars to prove it.

"Sir, we're closing in on the transportation depot. Should I stop?" The driving engineer asked.

"Full speed ahead. Everyone, prepare yourselves." The Grenadiers stuck their Hellguns out the windows. "You two, get down." The two infantrymen knelt down and raised their lasguns. Dresden flipped over and readied his bolt pistol.

"After these two buildings, we'll be there!" Another Engineer yelled. Lukas nodded and readied the heavy stubber. _Five, four, three, two, one._

The truck drove through four lines of barbed wire and sandbags, flattening nine rebels who were unlucky enough to be guarding it. Lasfire, bolts, and stubber rounds impacted the rebel's positions, killing some and forcing others into cover. Dresden shot a traitor holding a rocket launcher and one running towards the truck. Lukas felt satisfaction upon seeing the carnage. _They asked for this by rebelling against the Imperium. _Everyone disembarked from the truck and walked into the depot, their weapons raised. Dresden's wounds were healing, allowing him to walk with a noticeable limp. A Grenadier opened a door and was blown to pieces. _Only seven men left, including Dresden. _The squad moved against the walls. An engineer glanced inside and received a stubber round to the head, knocking him backwards. Dresden grabbed him before he fell. The Krieger removed a fragmentation grenade from his belt and threw it into the room. After the explosion, another engineer checked the room. Blood and entrails were splattered everywhere.

"Engineers, plant melta charges. Kill anything that moves." They nodded and began placing melta charges on the walls. "Dresden, stay here. The rest of you, follow me."

Lukas kicked down a metal door and began shooting, killing a rebel hiding behind a desk. These traitors are too cowardly to face us. _Disgraceful. _An infantryman kicked down another door and grabbed an old man by the neck. A Grenadier drew his combat knife and placed it on the man's cheek. He whispered something into the man's ear and dragged the blade across his cheek, spilling blood. The Krieger turned around and ignored the man's screams. _He won't even try to fight back. Shameful traitor. _Everyone continued down the hallway once the screams stopped. Lukas saw Dresden and the engineers leaning against a wall.

"All our charges have been planted. May I start a three minute timer?" Lukas shook his head.

"Dresden, if you may?" The Scout Marine nodded.

"We'll follow the pipeline with the truck and cut into the residential district! It will take an estimated four hours for any Imperial Guardsmen to reach our position! I recommend using that time to rest, you will need it for what comes next!"

"Yes sir!" The squad yelled.

"Set the melta charges." Lukas ordered. The engineers pressed a button on one melta charge and nodded. "Move out!"

**Sector R-2, Korolis Capital…**

Lukas glanced around the cellar. Dresden was sitting on a metal crate with his disassembled bolt pistol before him. He watched as the Scout Marine cleaned the weapon's parts with practiced precision and speed. _I should clean my weapon as well. The upcoming battle will wreak havoc on it's internal systems. _The Krieger produced a grey metal tin from his pack. It was labeled "Maintenance Kit" in black letters. He pulled the airtight lid off and set his lasgun in front of him, using a screwdriver to open the maintenance port. Each lasgun had unique screws that could only be opened by one screwdriver. This prevented tampering or reverse-engineering by species of lower intellect. Lukas put the screwdriver back in the kit and grabbed a cotton swab. He dipped it in oil and rubbed the two diamond focusing lenses. After three minutes of cleaning, he placed the swab and oil back in the maintenance kit. Next came the power capacitors and energy regulators. The Krieger examined them to check for damage, and upon seeing their pristine condition, nodded. He screwed the maintenance panel shut and poured a small amount of acid down the barrel, which vaporized any fragments interfering with the firing process. With that over with, he leaned the lasgun against the wall.

"You should sleep." Dresden whispered. The Krieger nodded and placed his sleeping bag on the floor. He got in and used his rucksack as a pillow. He fell asleep in seconds.

**Three hours later…**

Lukas' eyes shot open. It was time to move out. He got up, stretched his body, and reattached his sleeping bag to his rucksack. Dresden handed the Krieger his lasgun and began waking up everyone else. _He's got a limp, but it appears to be healing. _He glanced down at his watch. 2100, one hour before the main invasion force arrived. The Elyssians and Cadians were too concerned about losses to win any battles fast enough. In all likelihood, the Catachan Jungle Fighters and Tallarn Desert Raiders were leading the charge. Lukas viewed them as equals to the Death Korps of Krieg, and in some areas, superior. Between him and a Catachan in unarmed combat, he would lose. Badly.

"Squad, prepare to move out in five. Do not speak and keep noise to a minimum. Preserve the element of surprise ." Lukas whispered. Everyone saluted and went back to packing.

"Lukas, movement outside." Dresden whispered. Everyone froze and raised their lasguns.

"I hear it. Keep everyone alive." The Krieger raised his lasgun and moved up the stairs. His footfalls were silent.

Lukas pushed the wooden door open and moved down the hallway, sticking to the wall. Two rebel soldiers were playing a card game in the kitchen. Their flak armor was torn and burnt, exposing dirty skin underneath. One had a bloodied rag taped to his head, and the other wore a commissar's cap and had a bolt pistol on his hip. The Krieger pondered on what to do. If he stabbed one, the other would react and call for help. He was unsure if any more rebels were in or around the house. Shooting them would be worse, not only would they be screaming, but his shot would attract rebels like flies to animal manure. A loyalist bomber flew above them, creating a deafening sound. This was his chance. Lukas emerged from the shadows and killed one of the rebels, alerting the other. He raised his bolt pistol and fired, hitting a vase next to him. The Krieger rolled to the side and fired a single shot, impacting the rebel's head. He walked over to him and searched his body. _Bolt pistols hold ten rounds, and I have three full magazines. Thirty rounds total._ He placed the magazines in his utility belt's ammunition pouches. Next came the bolt pistol.

"Nice." The Krieger whispered. It was thinner than an average bolt pistol, and somewhat sleeker. He placed it on his utility belt and left the room.

Lukas checked the entire house, and found no rebels. He opened the cellar door and announced himself, lest he be vaporized by lasfire. Everyone packed up the last of their belongings and went upstairs. The Krieger bent down to retrieve his rucksack, exposing his bolt pistol. Dresden noticed and walked over to ask about it.

"On one of the rebels, I assume?" Lukas nodded.

"It belonged to a commissar, no doubt. Bastard must've picked it off his body." Dresden opened a pouch on his belt. "What are you doing?"

"Take these." He dropped thirty bolt rounds onto Lukas' rucksack. "They're my spares. Your bolt pistol was made for unaugmented humans, so the magazine sizes are different. Rounds are the same, though."

"Thank you, Dresden." The Krieger placed them in an empty pouch on his utility belt. "Let's move out. We're linking up with a platoon of Tallarn Desert Raiders."

**Sector F-2...**

The Astra Militarum was not having a good time. Chaos had taken the opportunity to mount an offensive, sending hundreds of fleets to pierce the Cadian Gate. Half of their naval warships were reassigned to the unfolding battle, leaving millions of guardsmen without support. It appeared the Korolis rebellion was aided by Chaos, explaining its success earlier on. Lukas would ponder this later, right now, he was locked in a firefight with a Chaos Marine. He emerged from behind a pillar and fired his lasgun, piercing a weak point in the Chaos Marine's armor. The traitor staggered back and grunted in pain, giving him precious time to relocate. This was a battle of strategy and wits. The Chaos Marine ducked behind a pile of debris and fired his Bolter into random areas, none close to his hiding spot. The Krieger crawled behind a burning truck and fired again, hitting another weak point. _He can't keep this up for long._

"DIE, KRIEG DOG!" The Chaos Marine emerged from cover and fired his Bolter at a building near him, shattering glass and rockcrete. Lukas heard a clicking sound and saw his opponent was out of ammunition. "DAMN PIECE OF SHIT!" The traitor yelled.

Lukas emerged from cover and fired ten shots at the Chaos Marine. Each shot hit the same weak point, further damaging the traitor's power armor. The Krieger growled and charged forward, bayonet aimed at the hole in his opponent's armor. He pushed the blade as hard as he could and twisted it, forcing the Chaos Marine back. _I had practice with Dresden, now I put what I learned to the test. _He fired his lasgun until the power pack was depleted, and backed off. After reloading another pack, he fired again.

"CEASE, CORPSE WORSHIPER!" The Chaos Marine threw a kick, which Lukas dodged.

"Die!" The Krieger fired another seven shots, bringing the Chaos Marine to his knees. He tore off the traitor's helmet and slammed his bayonet through his skull, ending the battle. Lukas found two magazines of bolt pistol ammunition on the corpse, which he stowed away in his utility belt.

"Lukas, where are you!" Dresden yelled.

"Over here!" The Krieger responded. Dresden emerged from a nearby alleyway. Under the coating of dirt and grime, he could see the Scout Marine's armor was worse for wear. Spider cracks had formed around fist-sized dents, and the lower half was charred black.

"We need to link up with the platoon. Where is it?" Lukas gestured for Dresen to follow him.

"We can't stay out here, too exposed." The Scout Marine nodded in agreement. "But to answer your question, scattered or dead. The initial explosion killed some and forced the others apart. Where did you end up?"

"Sewers. Chaos Marines are everywhere down there. I got a Bolter and more ammunition for both of us." Both men paused. A faint whistling sound filled the air. "Artillery."

Lukas and Dresden sprinted into a building. The whistling got louder with every passing second. Soon, it was all the could hear. The Krieger dove under a metal desk and covered his head. _Just like basic training, except the drillmasters used more powerful shells. _A flurry of explosions and shockwaves shook the building, collapsing some of the foundation. His instincts screamed at him to roll away from the desk. He did, and avoided a giant plasteel beam that would've crushed him. Dresden emerged from underneath a table and raised his Bolter, searching the area for any hostiles. Both men checked themselves and their equipment over. Everything seemed to be in working order, but something was off with the filtration box of Lukas' gas mask. A dial on the box's front side was ticking. It had two arms, one to measure radiation and the other to measure air toxicity. The latter dial was up to fifty.

"There's increased air toxicity here. Is your mask working?" The Krieger asked.

"It's working." Dresden stood next to him. "I don't know if that barrage was ours or theirs."

"Assuming our main camp hasn't been overrun, it was ours." Lukas glanced around. "There are hundreds of Guardsmen and Astartes still fighting in the city. If we consolidate them, the Imperium has a chance of winning."

"How do you know this? We weren't issued radios." Dresden asked

"I overheard it between two Chaos Marines." Lukas replied.

"They might be based in the financial district. We should recon the area to be sure."

"I agree. We should also find radios to contact the survivors." Lukas said. Both men left the building and rushed down the street.

Little did they know, this was the start of a life-changing event.


	2. Harsh Resistance

**Holy Man-Emperor, this blew up quick. There are some reviews (the multi-paragraph ones) that I don't want to respond to. I ask that you don't comment stuff like this, it's too long to read and is in no way related to the story. I do not need a lecture on Marvel/DC technology, Warhammer technology, superhero dynamics, the American Dream, Gotham's crime rates, etc, I need feedback on the story. **

**Moving on, updates after this chapter might be sporadic. I've been thinking about a Warhammer/Star Wars crossover, but my brain, in an effort to be dickish, produced three grand plot ideas. Which sounds better:**

**A: ****The Realm of Ultramar (post Horus Heresy) appears in the Unknown Regions during the Clone Wars. They have thirteen star systems, their Astartes chapters, and their fleets.**

**B: ****The entire Ultramarines Legion (pre Horus Heresy) appears on a planet in the Unknown Regions during A New Hope. They have their Imperial Army regiments and fleets.**

**C: A Custodes warrior is teleported into the Star Wars universe. Takes place during the Clone Wars.**

**Which one would you like to see? Leave your choices in the comments. Next up, FUCK. YOU. NURGLE. Covid-19 is one of your worst diseases. American stores are now like Inquisition work camps, devoid of food and every other necessity. Wait, someone's knocking on my door...and windows...and roof. What the...**

**Heretic eliminated. By order of His Holy Inquisition, I'll be taking over as author. With that out of the way, I'll respond to your comments and begin the chapter. Stay safe and stay home, my friends. The Emperor protects.**

**loltuan123: Space Marines don't believe in the Emperor as a god, they just think he was the greatest leader in all human history. Lukas believes the same thing because Dresden, an Astartes, convinced him. Also, don't say ****heresy**** in my comments section. The Inquisitors might hear you and Exterminatus it into oblivion. Thanks for the first review!**

**nofirekiller123: Its reviews like this that make my day. I'm glad you like it. Expect more chapters soon!**

**gold crown dragon: Spoiler alert; more Imperials will show up in the later chapters. Sadly, no power shovel. IT'S TOO DAMN OP!**

**Guest: More will come.**

**AMW Riptide: Thank you! As for the lore dumps, I've seen the exact wording in other stories. Probably people who want others to know how intelligent they are lore-wise. In other words, they're assholes.**

**evolution-500: Thank you! More chapters will arrive soon.**

Lukas scanned a map of the capital placed atop a wooden table. They were somewhere in the industrial district, but he couldn't find an exact location. Most signs and street markers were damaged beyond repair. He glanced at Dresden, who was circling potential locations of loyalist forces. Both men were unsure where to look first._ Finn and Wolfgang might still be alive. We'd have two options, contact them through our nonexistent radios or journey to their location. _The Krieger memorized each roadway and placed a gloved finger on the map.

"Finn and Wolfgang were deployed to this skyscraper with three Grenadier squads and two Astartes. They have access to hundreds of artillery pieces and other munitions. It might be worth it." Lukas said.

"The Chaos Marines have planned for this attack. A force that large would be targeted first, especially if it had control of artillery." The Scout Marine paused to scratch his neck. "It's still our best shot. If they're dead, we have no hope of breaching the financial district."

"If we play our cards right, those thirty five men will be enough to win the battle. Our recon showed a number of unguarded alleyways and sewers that could be exploited." The Krieger responded.

"We could open up with an artillery barrage from the skyscraper. Then, we send them in to eliminate any stragglers." Dresden said.

"The artillery barrage would be difficult to pull off. Chaos Marines are fanatics, but they're not stupid. Finding the bombardment's source would be trivial for them. We could place some artillery on other buildings, but transporting them would be a hassle." Lukas replied.

"And that's leaving out the men needed to operate them, limited ammunition, and Chaos Marines storming their locations. All of these plans have one flaw; a lack of manpower. We need to find more soldiers." Dresden circled three city blocks. "I'd check these areas first."

"We'll search them at nightfall. Get your wounds and equipment fixed." Lukas turned around and walked away.

"Wait." Dresden called. The Krieger stood still. "Standard Imperial doctrine states, and I quote, 'any inhabited planets that display the foul taint of Chaos must be destroyed. Cyclonic torpedoes are the recommended weapon for purifying lost planets.' Why has nothing happened?"

"Korolis is rich in promethium. To destroy such a valuable resource would be wasteful, even for an Inquisitor." Lukas responded. Dresden nodded.

Lukas produced a ration tin from his rucksack and pulled it open. He had three protein bars, one piece of bread, rice, and various fruits. Each item was modified on the molecular level to provide more vitamins and proteins, eliminating his need to eat for days on end. The Krieger scarfed down a protein bar in seconds, finishing the meal with a swig of water from his canteen. He resealed the tin and placed it back inside his rucksack, making sure to keep everything organized. Each tin was held in individualized compartments, minimizing the risk of exposure or damage, while also granting more storage space. He unzipped one such compartment and produced two black books, the Krieg Uplifting Primer and the Codex Astartes. Most of his down time was spent reading both tomes, and to an extent, memorizing them. Lukas opened the Primer, inspecting it's toughened pages for damage. Upon seeing the book's exceptional condition, he began reading. Unlike the standard-issue version, the Krieg Uplifting Primer contained useful information on battle tactics, survival, vehicle repair, unarmed combat, first aid, and much more. Without its guidance, he would've died a long time ago. As he flipped the middle page, three papers fell from the book. The Krieger reached out and grabbed them. _Photographs? Where did they...oh. _Lukas saw his old platoon on the radiation-blasted surface of Krieg, standing at attention in the middle of a harsh radstorm. Their five drillmasters occupied the front row, power swords and laspistols strapped to their hips. The Imperial flag, held by a sparkling golden flagpole, fluttered behind the platoon. A purple streak of lightning cut through the orange skies and brown clouds, appearing to pass through the cloth flag.

"Your old platoon?" Dresden whispered from across the cellar. Lukas glanced at the Scout Marine's distant silhouette and nodded.

"Seventh platoon, tenth company, 83rd Regiment. Wiped out during our second campaign, only three survivors."

"I know. We all heard the rumors, but your identities remained a secret. My squad requested the battle report and your mental evaluations." Dresden paused to drink from his canteen. _So he knew all along. It matters not. _"I was impressed, still am. Five hundred corrupted guardsmen and daemons, killed by three men in a foxhole."

"Their names were Hans and Grekov." Lukas unsheathed his bayonet, running a gloved hand over the blade. "Hans was a friend of mine, one of the few I've ever had. He died five months ago on Armageddon. Grekov was promoted to captain and died on Vraks."

"No price is too high for mankind's continued survival." Dresden said emotionlessly.

"A true warrior dies standing." The Krieger sheathed his bayonet. "Such is the will of the Emperor."

Lukas examined the next photo, a relic from his time in the Grenadiers. He appeared to be severely malnourished, covered in battered armor and a torn greatcoat. His exposed fatigues were stained red with blood, indicating the presence of serious injuries. Despite these aliments, he stood tall and proud next to Dresden. The Scout Marine's armor was cracked and dented in many places, allowing his grievous wounds to be easily seen. Both men possessed emotionless faces, their eyes devoid of any life. _We always survive. The ignorant consider it a blessing, but I know better. _Both photos were placed inside a waterproof bag, which went into the Primer's storage folder. The Krieger glanced downwards, spotting the last photo atop a small rock. He picked the cream-colored paper up off the ground, bringing it to eye level. Clad in full golden Artificer armor, a masterpiece of engineering forged with rare alloys and the finest gemstones, sat a warrior of the Legio Custodes. Both him and Lukas inhabited a deep foxhole, their helmets discarded beside them. The Custodes' face was grizzled and scarred, possessing fair skin, short black hair, and deep blue eyes.

"Wait..." Dresden walked into the room. "Is that a Custodes?"

"Yes." He belonged to a small minority of guardsman, no larger than one thousand, who fought alongside the Legio Custodes in battle. "His name was Raphael. I met him during my first campaign."

"What was a Custodes doing outside the Imperial Palace?" Dresden asked. Lukas shrugged in response.

"He wouldn't answer directly, but from our conversations, I discovered three Shield Companies fighting across the sector."

"One hundred and eighty transhumans outside the Imperial Palace?" The Scout Marine paused to think. "What warranted such an extreme response?"

"Something we don't need to know. Rest up, I'll take watch."

**Two hours later...**

Lukas donned his gas mask and helmet, twisting a valve on the filtration box to test the seal. A silent hiss filled the air, indicating the seal was working. He deactivated his lamp pack and placed it inside his rucksack, zipping the bag shut and buttoning it's main flap. Afterwards, the Krieger grabbed his lasgun, which had its bayonet attached, and went to find Dresden. The Scout Marine waited near the cellar's exit, standing tall in his repaired armor.

"If they're dead, we'll bombard the financial district ourselves." Dresden said.

"Let's move."

Through the poisonous gas and smoke, Lukas saw a ruined city. Dozens of buildings had collapsed, their damaged frames unable to support the immense weight placed upon them. The streets were lined with debris, damaged vehicles, burning puddles, and thousands of corpses. A mixture of blood, water, guts, and oil flowed through gashes in the rockcrete street, forming rivers of death that boiled from heat. In the distance, skyscrapers that once stood tall were crumbling, revealing cracked plasteel beams and hundreds of corpses. Both men took ammunition and supplies from the corpses, executing any stragglers who survived their grievous wounds. The sound of lasfire erupted from a nearby street, followed by bolter fire and multiple explosions. Both men looked at each other and rushed towards the street. Four Chaos Marines lay dead on the pavement, their blood and entrails scattered about. Lasfire came from the windows of multiple buildings, but did little to hurt the remaining traitors. Lukas unholstered his bolt pistol and fired at the closest enemy, penetrating the weak points of his power armor. The Chaos Marine was gunned down by Dresden, who shifted his aim towards an advancing traitor. Three Chaos Marines rushed towards them from down the street.

"LEAVE THE KRIEGER, HE'S MINE!" _That must be the squad leader. _Lukas grabbed a krak grenade and threw it at the massive Chaos Marine. The traitor flew backwards, destroying a rockcrete wall and vanishing inside a building. Laughter came from the armored behemoth. "Just like an Astartes killer! Straight to the point and fucking dishonorable!" A red blur zoomed towards him.

"Die, traitor." Lukas rolled to the side, avoiding a chainsword swipe that would've bisected him. He charged forward with a battle cry, piercing the Chaos Marine's lower chest armor.

"Ha! The Astartes killer brings a flashlight into battle!" Lukas fired his lasgun ten times and twisted the bayonet, splattering blood on his greatcoat. He backed off and fired his bolt pistol, creating fist-sized dents in the traitor's armor. "My turn." An armored hand swatted him into the wall, cracking one of his ribs. Fortunately, the remaining blunt force trauma was absorbed by his greatcoat.

Lukas raised his lasgun and fired, hitting the Chaos Marine's chest. His opponent growled and charged forward, unholstering a customized Bolter. The Krieger dove behind an abandoned tank, avoiding a short burst that would've killed him. Dresden glanced at him before slashing a Chaos Marine with his combat knife. Lukas sidestepped a chainsword thrust and fired his bolt pistol, creating two holes in his opponent's abdomen. He backed off to reload, leaving him open to attack. The traitor holstered his chainsword and ran to the side, using his momentum to kick the Kreiger into a wall. An armored hand lifted him up by the shoulder, placing him at eye level with his opponent. Through dark eye lenses, Lukas could see a pair of deranged, bloated eyes covered in a sheathe of red. Images of the Warp flickered across them like pictures on a data slab. Purple tendrils circled around a red void, accentuated by lightning and the claws of massive daemons. Billions of planets existed inside this maelstrom, their surfaces covered in rot, incomprehensible knowledge, mobs of warring daemons, and machines of torture. It made him feel something he rarely felt.

Fear.

Lukas drew his bolt pistol and placed it on the traitor's head, but the weapon was swatted away before he could fire.

"You put up a good fight, Astartes killer, but no mortal kills my brothers and gets away with it." The hand around Lukas' shoulder tightened, straining the augmented muscles and bone. The Chaos Marine discarded his Bolter and punched him in the gut, breaking seven ribs and bruising the rest. Blood dribbled down his chin.

"LUKAS!" Dresden yelled. He fired at a Chaos Marine, penetrating his helmet, and sprinted towards Lukas. He was grabbed by the shoulders and thrown into a wall. The Chaos Marine chuckled.

"Suffer." Lukas' shoulder broke under the pressure, sending waves of pain through his body. He remained silent, much to the Chaos Marine's chagrin.

"DIE, HERETIC!" A female voice yelled. The traitor grunted as hundreds of lasfire bolts impacted his power armor. Some pierced weak points in the abdomen, spraying blood onto the street. Lukas grabbed his entrenching tool and slashed at the Chaos Marine's helmet, shattering an eye lens and gouging into the ceremite armor plating. Red light emerged from the damaged lens, exposing him to the incomprehensible. For a brief moment, he knew the true meaning of infinity. _No. I will not yield. _The Krieger growled and slashed again, cutting his opponent's jugular.

"SHIT!" The Chaos Marine screamed. He slammed Lukas into the ground and returned fire, killing several guardsmen. He grabbed the Krieger and lifted him back up, unaware of the bolt pistol in his hands. He unloaded the entire magazine into the traitor's neck, piercing armor and and flesh.

"For the Emperor." Twenty fist-sized holes appeared on the Chaos Marine's torso. He staggered backwards and fell to his knees, creating a small cloud of dirt and blood. Dresden stood next to the traitor and executed him with a bolt to the head.

"You two, get in here!" Six guardsmen emerged from a building down the street. Three formed a perimeter around the door, while the rest grabbed Lukas' weapons and dragged him inside. The metal door was slammed shut and locked.

Lukas was treated by a Cadian medic, who injected him with various healing agents and fixed his armor. The Krieger mended his greatcoat's pauldrons, the only items left damaged, and explored the holdout. Various underground bunkers and five buildings housed one hundred Astartes, two hundred guardsmen, fifty light vehicles, dozens of APCs, and a Leman Russ tank. If they joined his resistance, the financial district was a guaranteed victory. He passed two Catachans sharpening their "knives", which resembled swords more than anything else. _Catachan blades, while sharp and durable, are nothing compared to my elegant bayonet_. Dresden was somewhere in the bunker network convincing their leader to help them. Lukas would soon join him. A Catachan stood up and blocked his path.

"This is a restricted area. State your business." The guardsman spoke with a booming voice. He stood at six foot four and held a lascarbine in his hands.

"The captain is expecting me." The guardsman nodded and pointed to a metal door. Lukas nodded and walked down the hallway. Another Catachan stood guard.

"Sir, the Krieger is here to see you." The guardsman opened the door and saluted.

"Krieger. I've been expecting you." An old Cadian said. He was muscular and wore standard fatigues, which displayed the rank of captain on his sleeve. Lukas stood at attention. "The Astartes has me convinced, but I want to hear the plan from you. Dresden, you may leave."

"Yes sir." Dresden saluted and left the room. The captain placed a map on his desk and gestured for him to speak.

"This is our target, sir." The Krieger took a marker and circled the financial district. "Chaos Marines have set up encampments in ten areas. Our recon suggests one hundred traitors per encampment. They have no vehicles or artillery."

"Put dots on them." The captain ordered. Lukas placed dots over ten areas, each one occupying the financial district's borders. "Checkpoints at strategic roadways and intersections. I assume they could also act as staging areas."

"Yes sir. Beyond these encampments is a ring of debris and chaos flame. It is impassible on foot, and indicates the presence of traitor Librarians." He drew a red circle around the central financial district. "We believe they use the sewer network to pass the ring. Beyond it is their main camp and headquarters, which we could not reach."

"I see." The captain scratched his head. "Please continue."

"Our plan is split into three phases. The first involves manpower." The Krieger circled several locations around the city. "Hundreds of loyalist Astartes and guardsmen are still fighting. If they are consolidated here, an estimated eight hundred men will be available for phase three. If possible, I recommend you dispatch search parties immediately." The captain nodded.

"After this, I'll send squads to the areas you've circled. Continue."

"An area of importance is this skyscraper." He circled a building near the outer financial district. "It houses thirty five men, two hundred artillery pieces, and several thousand longlas rifles. Everything must be retrieved for the third phase to succeed."

"I can send APCs and light vehicles to make transportation easier. My one concern is artillery placement."

"I will cover that now, sir. Phase two involves the placement of artillery, procurement of resources, and troop placement. Individual squads will be sent to retrieve vehicles, radios, weapons, and ammunition. Stashes will be kept throughout the city. Snipers and artillery will be placed on rooftops bordering the financial district, and the infantry force will wait in the alleyways. Phase three will now begin."

"What if the Chaos Marines find the guardsmen or artillery?"

"If that happens, an order will be sent to begin the attack. When the battle begins, the artillery will open up with a barrage of the main base and enemy encampments. Snipers will pick off stragglers wandering the city. A reserve force will stay behind to protect the artillery from surviving Chaos Marines."

"And the offensive force?"

"Six hundred men total, each split into groups of three hundred. Group one will push through here." Lukas drew an arrow pointing down a strategic roadway. "They will be transported in APCs. After they break through, the guardsmen will destroy any resistance and set up firing positions. Group two will protect their sides and rear. After securing the outer ring, they will protect it against counterattacks. Some buildings will be collapsed with melta charges to provide cover, and eliminate the need for full patrols around the ring. The artillery will stop shelling the main base, and more vehicles will be sent to the outer ring."

"And this is where the Astartes come in?" The Krieger nodded.

"They will assault the main base and capture it."

"It has some problems, but those can be discussed in finer detail. I'll notify my lieutenants. Dismissed." Lukas saluted and left the room.

**Thirty minutes later...**

Lukas glanced around the massive room atop a catwalk. It served as the main deployment area, and connected to dozens of secret exits that were used to venture into the city. Half of the base's vehicles were stored here, but one in particular caught his attention. A Leman Russ tank was being tended to by various mechanics, who loaded ammunition, piled vital parts, and fixed various subsystems. It's olive green chassis sported the words "Marbo's Glutes" in black letters. Under it was a painted Catachan holding a Devil's Claw combat knife, a four foot long blade with a razor-sharp edge and hollowed interior. He wore a green t-shirt and camouflaged fatigues, exposing his scarred, but muscular arms. A red bandanna covered his forehead. Under his feet was a dead Chaos Marine with hundreds of bleeding lacerations. Lukas recognized the man as Sly Marbo, a recipient of twenty Star of Terra medals. The Krieger glanced at his wristwatch. Ten minutes had passed since the first search party was dispatched. If nothing went wrong, they would be back soon. Dresden pocketed his mission brief and stood up.

"Sending the Tallarn Desert Raiders was a good choice. They're experts at scavenging." The Scout Marine said.

"They should arrive soon. With living guardsmen, I hope." Lukas gripped the railing.

"Guardsmen are tougher than Astartes claim. As we speak, eight hundred are holding back thousands of transhuman warriors bolstered by Chaos."

"MDA Alpha, search parties inbound, ETA one minute. Equip night vision modules. Light discipline in five seconds. Out." A voice said over the Vox speakers. Everyone placed visors over their eyes. Each light flicked off, plunging the room into darkness. Lukas' night vision, a perk of his genetic augmentations, kicked in after half a second. The outer doors opened and closed, sending vibrations throughout the room. A team of medics and nurses stood several feet away, their bodies tensed. Severe injuries were almost guaranteed.

"I'm glad they made it." Dresden whispered. The massive inner doors slid open, allowing two APCs to enter the bunker. After the doors were shut and locked, hundreds of lights reactivated.

"Light discipline ended. All medical stations, prepare surgical areas and general supplies. Out." Both APCs opened their rear deployment hatches, revealing twenty guardsmen of various regiments. Five were Krieg infantrymen with torn greatcoats and battered flak armor.

"Stabilize the wounded!" A medic yelled. Half were placed on stretchers and carried away. The remaining guardsman were separated by regiment and led out of the room.

"Twenty guardsmen, complete with lasguns, flak armor, and other equipment. Not bad for the first wave." Dresden paused. "Speaking of, when are they heading out again?"

"They'll head out in two minutes. After four trips, new drivers will take their place." Lukas watched the drivers leave their vehicles. "You'll be leading a search party into the financial district. Expect to leave by morning."

"You should sleep." Dresden leaned against the railing. "I heard the east wing is reserved for Astartes. I'm going down there to look for my sergeant."

"Your sergeant is here." A gruff voice boomed. Acting on instinct, both men stood at attention. "Dresden Terros and 09831472-Lukas. Turn around." Lukas saw the power armored stomach of a massive Astartes, forcing him to to look upwards. The voice's owner was an old man with graying hair and green eyes, which held the look of a veteran warrior. He stood at eight foot nine, making the Krieger appear insect-like in comparison.

"Sergeant Vostor, sir." Dresden said.

"At ease." Vostor turned to face Lukas. "This is the unaugmented guardsman that killed fifty Chaos Marines, planned a citywide resistance, and came close to beating Dresden in an unarmed duel. Am I correct?"

"Yes sir." Lukas replied.

"If you survive the upcoming battle, I will make you an Ultramarine. Dresden, report to the east wing. Your battle brothers will find you a bunk."

"Yes sir." Dresden replied, saluting.

"As you were." Sergeant Vostor walked down the catwalk and dissapeared behind a corner.

"Congratulations, Lukas. It takes a truly extraordinary guardsman to catch Vostor's attention." Dresden patted Lukas' back.

"How often does this happen?" Lukas asked.

"Once every three centuries, according to the Ultramar records." Dresden paused. "Wait...this means our friendship will not end."

"...That is true." For the first time in over a decade, Lukas smiled underneath his gas mask. "I'll miss my bayonet. It's beauty is unmatched in the vast galaxy, for nothing can slice or thrust with such deadly elegance."

"You Kriegers have an unhealthy obsession with shovels, bayonets, and gas masks." Dresden quipped.

"And the Ultramarines have a toilet seat as their insignia." The Krieger retorted.

"I will not deny that. Goodnight, Lukas."

"Goodnight, Dresden."

**Six hours later...**

Lukas sat up and stretched, cracking his back and shoulders. Sleeping in flak armor was considered unpleasant by the average guardsman, but to him, it just felt right. The Krieger checked his rucksack for any impurities before placing it on his back. A patrolling Tallarn squad glanced at him before disappearing around a corner. He stepped over hundreds of sleeping guardsmen, keeping silent and moving fast. Between deployments, he took the time to study new skills and improve existing ones. Stealth was once a foreign concept to him, but with time and practice, it became second nature. Lukas glanced behind him and entered a bright hallway, wincing as his eyes adjusted to the light. Mechanics and nurses rushed to and fro, retrieving vital medicine or important machine parts. The Krieger began walking, undeterred by the chaotic environment around him. He stepped to the side, allowing a stream of wounded guardsmen to pass him. Most were younger than he was, new recruits, no doubt. While they groaned in pain, the veterans showed no sign of discomfort. Some joked amongst themselves as if nothing was happening. _They must be from last night. At this rate, our medical supplies will gone in days, if not hours. _

"You there, stop." A Cadian lieutenant said. Lukas turned to face her and stood at attention. "You are needed in level zero. Report there immediately."

"Yes ma'am." The Krieger saluted and walked away.

Level zero was a reinforced section of the bunker located many miles below ground. It's main function involved housing elements of command, but the war room granted it a secondary purpose. The Astra Militarum captain sat across from his Astartes counterpart, both men flanked by various lieutenants and sergeants. In front of them was a holographic table which displayed the city.

"Have a seat, Watchmaster." A lieutenant ordered. Lukas saluted and sat on a grey metal chair. "The briefing may now begin. Private Sam, read the morning report."

"Yes sir." The private opened a green binder. "As of now, there are four hundred men in fighting shape. Three light vehicles were acquired last night, and the scouts report no traitor activity in Sector R-1. No contact has been made with the Imperial Navy. Moving on, Catachan scouts discovered a loyalist holdout in Sector I-4, location 760 by 427." Another private typed something into the holographic table, causing a building in the industrial district to turn yellow. It was two stories high and surrounded by warehouses. "One Ultramarine Terminator squad and fifty guardsmen were found alongside a stash of supplies. A rescue party was dispatched, but as of 0200, we lost radio contact." The war room was silent, save for the humming of computers and other machinery.

"...Did you just say 'Ultramarine Terminator Squad', private?" The Astartes captain asked.

"Yes sir, that is what I said." The private responded. Lukas thought back to his days on Krieg, where commissars taught him advanced calculus, engineering, physics, and a myriad of other subjects._ Terminator armor is an advanced version of standard power armor, most commonly used by the elite first company of an Astartes chapter. The outer shell is made of ceramite/plasteel composite armor plating, which covers a reinforced adamantium exoskeleton. It can survive several direct hits from a tank._

"Increase the holdout's priority level to strategic value absolute and designate it Alpha-9. I want that Terminator squad here by nightfall." The Astra Millitarum captain ordered. "Continue, private."

"On a different note, the lead medic has filed a complaint regarding his supplies. It reads 'I am severely low on antibiotics, healing agents, surgical equipment, bandages, and prosthetic limbs. If we do not receive more of these items, nothing will be left in two days.' The repair, food, water, and armory departments are also reporting shortages, and have requested permission to begin rationing. On a more urgent note, a report from the lead mechanic warns of leaks in the plasma reactor."

"Private, read the lead mechanic's report."

"Yes sir." The private cleared his throat. "'After careful analysis and consideration, my lieutenant mechanics have confirmed the presence of leaks in the plasma reactor. Sergeant Jox, the current reactor officer, reported energy fluctuations in the core. A six man team was dispatched into the reactor chamber, and discovered twelve breaches in the outer protective shell. I recommend deactivating the reactor and burning promethium for fuel. Any more strain could spell a full breach.'"

"Get the reactor fixed and contained. If any bunker levels are contaminated, evacuate them. As for supplies, I'm open to suggestions."

"Sir, three forward operating bases are still intact. Our APCs can be sent to collect their supplies." A sergeant suggested.

"Are you referring to F.O.B Endurance, Willpower, and Cleansing Flame?" The Astra Militarum captain asked.

"Yes sir."

"Sergeants Andro and Glave, assemble your men. You will be raiding those bases at noon. Dismissed." A lieutenant ordered. The two sergeants saluted and left the room.

"Sir, I request permission to redeploy Lukas. He will lead an APC to Alpha-9 and rescue its inhabitants. If none are wounded, they will search for more supplies before returning." The Krieger saw logic in the plan. Sector I-4 was full of storage facilities, but the constant patrols made supply runs difficult.

"I approve. Lukas will take command of an Astartes squad." Everyone stared in confusion at the Astartes captain. "One of my brother sergeants claims to see potential in him. If he falters, another Astartes will dispose of him and continue the mission."

"Sir, which squad have you chosen?" A sergeant asked.

"Squad five. Notify them." The Astartes captain ordered.

"Yes sir." The sergeant typed something into his data slate. "It is done, sir. They will be ready in two minutes."

"Lukas, report to the east wing. Sergeant Vostor will brief you."

"Yes sir." The Krieger stood up, saluted, and left the room.

Lukas was uncertain of his new assignment's practicality. Astartes were physically superior to baseline humans, and expected to be lead by their own brethren. His physical limitations would hamper their effectiveness in combat, assuming they didn't execute him on the spot for incompetence. He pushed those thoughts away from his mind, dwelling on life's negative aspects fixed nothing. This mission has it's difficulties, but he would rise up to meet them. _Or die trying. _The Krieger noticed an incoming medical convoy, and sidestepped to avoid being trampled. Nurses carried fifteen guardsmen on bloodstained stretchers, each afflicted with gaping wounds that wept bood. Some were engaged in prayers to the Emperor, hoping the master of mankind would seal their wounds and relive the pain. _Foolishness in its purest form. _Lukas saw a Krieg infantryman amongst the masses, sporting wounds on his stomach, torso, and head. _Three torso lacerations with jagged edges, bolter shrapnel. Burns on the forehead and lower jaw, glancing lasgun shot. Multiple holes in the stomach, high-caliber autogun fire. Tough kid. _He nodded at the guardsmen, who saluted back and whispered something inaudible. The Krieger spotted Sergeant Vostor amongst the masses, and stood at attention.

"Follow me. Your squad is waiting." They walked forward. "How many gene-seed implants does an Astartes receive?"

"Firstborn Astartes receive fifteen gene-seed implants, sir." Lukas responded, his voice emotionless. The sergeant nodded.

"Who informed you of the Primaris Astartes?"

"Dresden Terros, sir." The Krieger paused. "He is a Primaris Astartes."

"I am aware. Why was the Codex Astartes written?"

"After the Horus Heresy, Primarch Roboute Guilliman wished to eliminate the threat of rebellion. To do this, he penned the Coxed Astartes, a book that dictated battle tactics, troop formations, approved weapons, and a myriad of other subjects. The most controversial change was the splintering of Astartes legions into smaller Chapters. Guilliman saw the risks posed by legions if corrupted, and wanted to limit their influence. Primarchs Rogal Dorn, Leman Russ, and Vulkan resisted the Codex, citing gene-seed defects and low numbers as their primary reasons for doing so. After Vulkan and Leman Russ' disappearance, their legions were split by Guilliman. Rogal Dorn split his legion willingly, but gave the Codex a 5/10 'it was okay' review before disappearing into the Warp."

"Correct. Dresden taught you well." Sergeant Vostor passed a waiting line of mechanics, no doubt tasked with repairing the Astartes' weapons and power armor. Up ahead, four of the superhuman warriors guarded the east wing entrance.

"Halt." An Astartes boomed. "Identification card, sergeant?" The sergeant nodded and handed the guard a plastic card. "Proceed."

Despite his exposure to feats of great strength by Astartes and the occasional Custodes, transhuman shock was a foreign concept to Lukas. He felt some awe at their immense height and power, but eight years of mental conditioning ensured his emotions were kept in check. That wall of self-regulation was almost broken when he stepped foot into the east wing. One hundred Astartes, clad in black jumpsuits with multiple neural ports, roamed the pristine hallways. Their movements were graceful and close to silent, showcasing decades, if not centuries of training. _I've never seen a hundred Astartes in one place. _After three minutes of walking, they reached a briefing room. Five power-armored Astartes stood at attention, Bolters held against their chests.

"Sergeant Vostor, the squad is combat ready!" The Astartes turned to face Lukas. "Watchmaster Lukas, I am Castiel, your second in command. They are Indris, Oriar, Skaban, and Eremiel."

"Listen up." The sergeant boomed. "High command made a discovery in Sector I-4. One Terminator squad and fifty guardsmen were found in a two story building, designation Alpha-9. One APC and three light vehicles were sent to retrieve them, but have gone missing. You will find them and radio me for further instructions. Afterwards, proceed to Alpha-9. Send the wounded back to HQ, and take the rest to find more supplies. Look for medical items, fuel, ammunition, machine parts, and anything else considered essential. You may make multiple trips if required. Any questions?"

"Sir, what is the likelihood of encountering traitor patrols?" Oriar asked.

"High. Sector I-4 is patrolled by squads of ten on a regular basis. With that being said, try to keep stealthy. Anything else?"

"No sir." Everyone said in unison. Sergeant Vostor nodded.

"Report to MDA Alpha. Dismissed."

**Sector I-4 outskirts, nine minutes later...**

Lukas glanced around the Land Raider, attempting to gauge his squad's overall personality. To the untrained eye, they were calm and collected, ready to charge into battle should the need arise. While that was true, each Astartes displayed some uniqueness in their thought patterns. Castiel, for example, was anxious about the safety of his fellow soldiers. _One minute left. _The Krieger got up and stood near the exit, lasgun at the ready. His squad filed in behind him. _At long range, I'll need to aim for weak points. Six shots will pierce their abdominal plating. Up close, my bolt pistol and bayonet will prove useful. _Death Korps bayonets were made of reinforced adamantium, sharpened at the molecular level to pierce armor. Unlike most knives, they required little to no maintenance, never lost their edge, and doubled as a field tool.

"One minute remaining, status report." The Krieger said.

"Equipment checks have been performed, sir." Castiel turned around, facing the squad. "Disable safeties and get in formation. The Watchmaster is taking point."

"Watchmaster, the auspex reads forty hostiles, ETA ten seconds." A guardsman said from the driver's compartment.

"Halt the vehicle and provide suppressing fire. Squad, find cover and advance." The deployment hatch opened. "Move out."

Lukas disembarked with his lasgun raised, firing at weak points in the traitor's power armor. Two collapsed dead onto the rockcrete street, unable to endure the stress placed upon their bodies. He threw a fragmentation grenade and rushed for cover, granted to him in the form of a derelict tank. His squad found similar cover and returned fire, killing several Chaos Marines with three-round bursts. They gradually advanced, using a mix of grenades and automatic fire to keep the enemy pinned. He rammed his bayonet through a traitor's stomach and fired two shots, forcing him to his knees. The Krieger drew his bolt pistol and fired a single shot, killing his opponent. Another, fueled by hate, rushed towards him. _Chainsword, not effective for thrusts, great for swipes. Opponent will attempt a downwards swipe. Dodge to the left and thrust with bayonet. Finish with lasgun shots. _Just as he predicted, the Chaos Marine attempted a swipe. Lukas dodged to the right and thrust his bayonet forward, piercing his liver. He fired his lasgun, killing the traitor. His hand reached for another power pack, something four enemies capitalized on. He was forced to reload while firing his bolt pistol, killing one traitor and wounding the others. Skaban noticed this and rushed to aid him, distracting the Chaos Marines with automatic Bolter fire. The Krieger charged and impaled one in the lower back, severing his spine. He moved backwards and charged again, piercing the traitor's helmet and twisting. Lukas evaded a low chainsword swipe and detached his bayonet, slicing through armor and flesh. He switched to a reverse grip and rolled under several kicks, getting him behind the Chaos Marine. The Krieger drew his bolt pistol and fired, paralyzing his opponent. _End him. _Another shot ended the traitor's life. Lukas cleaned his bayonet and scanned the area.

"Is anyone wounded?" Nobody responded. "Good. Let's move."

Lukas utilized the alleyways and abandoned warehouses to great effect, circumventing five blocks of traitor camps in twenty minutes. His squad moved close behind, monitoring the area and watching his back. Without them, this mission would be nigh-impossible. The Krieger raised his fist, halting the squad. _Movement, on the second catwalk. Glint of a scope...Exitus Rifle. _He motioned for everyone to find cover, an order they followed without question. A round struck Indris' midsection, tearing through armor plating and sending him flying. Lukas grabbed the wounded Astartes and dragged him to cover, surprising his squadmates. On average, a Space Marine in full power armor weighed one thousand pounds. While Indris was tended to by Lukas, the remaining Astartes provided suppressing fire. Several shots glanced their power armor, leaving hideous gashes across the blue composite plating.

"Castiel, you're with me. Eremiel, deal with Indris." The Astartes crouched next to his battle-brother and administered healing agents.

Lukas and Castiel reached the second catwalk in half a minute. The sniper wore a Vindicare stealth suit, allowing her considerable musculature to be seen. She moved backwards, drawing a laspistol and firing several shots. The Krieger rushed forward at thirty miles per hour, bayonet aimed at the woman's solar plexus. She let out a cry of pain as metal pierced flesh, forcing her to the ground. Lukas stepped aside, allowing Castiel to finish her off. He drew his combat knife and chopped off her hands.

"For Indris, you filthy heretic." He stood up and sheathed his combat knife. "Thank you, sir. I'll reassemble the squad."

"Go." Lukas knelt down and examined the sniper's weapon, a sawed-off Exitus Rifle in mint condition. It was sleeker than a normal model, eliminating weight and unnecessary bulk. She had ten magazines of standard ammunition, a rare sight that left in him temporary shock. _Vindicare assassins carry three standard rounds. For a rebel to have ten magazines...I won't question her methods. _He found three magazines in her satchel, each marked with a red line.

"Turbo-penetratior rounds." He muttered under his breath. "I'm taking those."

"Please...that rifle, it's mine." She muttered. The Krieger took the rifle, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Too bad." He kicked her off the catwalk. "Squad, hold position in the alleyway."

The idea of long-range combat was disliked by many baseline Kriegers, who viewed it as dishonorable. Captured enemy snipers were executed or brutalized in "group bonding activities" amongst the regiments. Lukas once held the same mindset, but after ten months of Grenadier training, his views changed. Any method of attaining victory was honorable. _Stay focused. You have a job to do. _He crouched behind a ventilation unit, loading his Exitus Rifle with a fresh magazine. Despite Krieg's hatred of snipers, the idea of firing such a fearsome weapon excited him. One shot from its adamantium barrel could determine the fate of billions. The Krieger shifted his aim by three inches, placing the crosshairs on a traitor's head. He exhaled and fired.

_"Tango is down. Move to point one, over."_ Lukas muttered into a radio.

_"Yes sir, advancing now. The Emperor protects." _Castiel responded.

Lukas scanned the area for threats, providing overwatch as his squad moved towards a maglev station. _One sniper, three to four hundred feet away. Appears to have a Stalker-pattern Bolter. _He moved to another rooftop, activating his scope's x-ray feature. The traitor wore rebel fatigues and knelt behind a truck. He aimed and fired, killing the traitor.

_"Sir, we are holding position at point one. Please respond, over."_ Castiel's voice said through the radio.

_"Acknowledged. Continue holding position, over."_ He responded.

Lukas sprinted across the empty street at thirty miles per hour. The maglev station, where his squad resided, was visible across the horizon. He jumped over the hood of a truck, landing with a roll to minimize the impact. Skaban waved him over and pointed to a storage building. _Ten stories high and lots of cover. It will serve me well. _The Krieger nodded and continued running, dodging several artillery craters and debris piles. _Damn it, no fire escape ladders. I'll have to do it the hard way. _He readied his lasgun and kicked down the metal door, moving from room to room like a shadow. After twenty minutes of room-sweeping, he reached the roof.

_"I'm in position. Move to point two, over."_ The Krieger readied his Exitus Rifle.

"Yes sir, over."

Lukas ducked behind a ventilation unit, avoiding multiple three-round bursts from an enemy sniper. _Bastard's fifty feet away, maybe closer. I have to end this. _He reached for a grenade, but discarded that option upon considering the risks. Chaos Marines would gravitate towards the explosion, giving him more enemies to deal with. In addition, the building wasn't stable enough to receive such punishment. Cover fire seemed to be his only choice. Switching to his lasgun, the Krieger emerged from cover and began firing. _I need to close the distance. _He charged forward, bayonet at the ready. His opponent dodged and threw a kick, pushing him into a brick wall. Lukas rolled to the side, avoiding a powerful roundhouse kick, and thrust his lasgun forward. The bayonet pierced flak armor and flesh, but did little to deter the traitor. He fired the lasgun twice and twisted, making his opponent grunt. The Krieger moved sideways to avoid a haymaker, tearing through the ribcage and heart. His opponent collapsed, bleeding profusely from the massive gash on his chest. He fired his bolt pistol at the sniper's head, creating a miniature explosion of grey matter and blood. _At least his weapon was silenced. _Lukas resumed his duties, killing anything that threatened his squad.

"Sir, we have found the missing search party." That caught his attention.

"Report."

"The APC struck multiple incinerator mines, but otherwise remains undamaged. All of its escorts are destroyed, and half of the guardsmen perished to snipers, over."

"Gather the survivors and send them back to HQ, over."

"Yes sir, out."

**Eighteen minutes later...**

Despite his respect for Catachans, Lukas couldn't deny the oddity of their culture. They spoke in condescending and egotistical tones, but never hesitated to counsel traumatized guardsmen. Arguments amongst their ranks were settled in knife-fighting competitions, where both opponents tried to kill or maim each other. Hundreds were fond of venturing into the jungle with nothing but their knives. All of these strange traditions made little sense to him, something that was very unlikely to change. This created a cultural gap, which grew more apparent as he checked the surviving Catachans for injuries. They often commented on his sheathed bayonet, which brought him nothing but irritation.

"I'm telling you, a standard Night Reaper equals his bayonet in most categories." A bald Catachan whispered to his squadmates.

"Durability is where the bayonet shines. I've seen them pierce ten inches of ceramite with no damage." _A Krieg bayonet outclasses their knives in every category, save for length._

"Attention, Catachans. You will board the APC and report back to HQ." Eremiel boomed. The guardsmen saluted and filed into their APC.

"Castiel." Lukas called. "Come here."

"Yes sir." The Astartes jogged over. "What do you require?"

"Use your radio to inform Alpha-9 of our presence. If any response is given, notify me immediately. Also, tell the men to rest and perform equipment checks. Dismissed."

"It will be done, sir." Castiel turned around. "Squad. We are nearing the mission objective. Perform full diagnostics scans on your equipment and rest up. If you encounter any problems, inform me. That is all."

Lukas checked the inner mechanisms of his Exitus Rifle for damage. Barring the occasional patch of rust, everything appeared to be in working order. _If a single part fails, the rifle is useless. No replacements exist within a ten thousand light year radius. Remember that. _The Krieger applied anti-rusting agents to any affected parts before reassembling the rifle. He loaded a fresh magazine and glanced around the alleyway, watching his squad clean their Bolters with oiled rags and brushes. _That's where a lasgun shines. Very reliable, needs little maintenance, and eases the burden on Imperial logistics. _

"Sir, the squad has completed equipment checks as ordered." Indris said.

"Good." Lukas stood up. "Castiel, have you made contact with Alpha-9?"

"No sir. It's possib-"

**"KRIEGER! WE HAVE UNFINISHED BUSINESS!" **


	3. Gathering Strength

**Hello, my glorious readers! Quick notice; VOTING WILL BE CLOSED BY TOMORROW! Also, what should Lukas' superhero name be? Please comment any ideas. Moving on, I have to tell you (WARNING, RANT INCOMING).**

**Some people like to make the following claim: "The DKoK is awful in terms of resource management, training, strategy, weapons, and equipment." Never have I seen such stupidity.**

**Resource Management: The Death Korps is very efficient in this department. Quartermasters take the equipment from dead soldiers and send it back to Krieg, where it's given to new recruits. Even if this wasn't the case, Krieg equipment is made on Krieg (duh). If they wanted to waste materials, it would only affect them.**

**Training: Death Korps training is equal to (and in some cases better) then Cadian training. Trainees are taught marksmanship, hand to hand combat, and survival skills at a very young age.**** Physically, they're pushed beyond their limits every day. It's standard practice to take multi-mile marches on the blasted surface of Krieg, where minefields are cleared, trenches are dug, and mock battles are staged. Mentally, they're broken and remade stronger. This harsh training allowed them to:**

**-Break through Iron Warrior fortifications (Iron Warriors are some of the best architects in the galaxy, matched only by the Imperial Fists).**

**-Survive for 48 hours (two days) against Death Guard Plague Marines.**

**-Hold off a Tyranid swarm long enough for other guardsmen to escape.**

**-Repel a Necron assault during the Battle of Amarah, leading to the destruction of their main tomb-complex. The Death Korps were the only forces capable of doing so. **

**-Breaking sieges that would've required Astartes.**

**It should be worth noting that Krieg lines were only broken ONCE, and it took the single worst batch of chemical weapons in Warhammer history to do so. Even then, they only fell back by one trench line. These SOBs are the equivalent of Spartan-IIs (without augmentations, of course).**

**Strategy: Do Kriegers love human wave attacks? Yes, who doesn't? While they use this tactic far more often then most regiments, the Death Korps is more then capable of switching strategies. An example of this is Vraks, where see them clearing trenches, breaching rooms, ****holding positions, and attempting infiltration.**

**Weapons: Stop calling them "laser muskets". Lucius Pattern Lasguns are semi-automatic infantry weapons, not firearms from the 1600s (that was a Rogal Dorn moment). These bad boys are far more powerful then a Kantreal Pattern Lasgun, but this comes at the cost of firing rate and ammunition capacity. Its a good trade-off.**

**Equipment: If you think about it, a standard Death Korps guardsmen is better equipped than most non-Kriegers. They have flak armor, plasteel helmets, high-powered lasguns, fully-sealed uniforms, grenades, and a rucksack full of supplies. **

**Sorry about that. Here are your voting options. **

**A: ****The Realm of Ultramar (post Horus Heresy) appears in the Unknown Regions during the Clone Wars. They have thirteen star systems, their Astartes chapters, and their fleets. 0 votes.**

**B: ****The entire Ultramarines Legion (pre Horus Heresy) appears on a planet in the Unknown Regions during A New Hope. They have their Imperial Army regiments and fleets. 2 votes.**

**C: A Custodes warrior (****Constantin Valdor)**** is teleported into the Star Wars universe. Takes place during the Clone Wars. 7 votes.**

**Which one would you like to see? Leave your choices in the comments. Stay safe, my friends. The Emperor protects.**

**DKoKLordCommissar: Thank you for the vote! **

**ManwithaPlan113: I'm glad you enjoy it. When I first read Death Korps of Justice, Keled appeared bland and uninteresting as a character. Some didn't enjoy that choice, but I understood it. Keled was fresh off Krieg, where individuality was punished to form a more unified force. Put simply, he hasn't had time to develop a personality. Lukas, on the other hand, is a veteran with four campaigns under his belt. He's had years to become human, and to an extent, has. Last thing, what do you mean by "different feels"? **

**Guest: And he will hold the line for another ten thousand years. Cadia broke before the guard did.**

**Dyliokkhan: Thank you for the vote, but I won't be using Kitten. Instead, I will be using the Chad of all Custodes: Constantin Valdor. **

**Dezron: Thank you for the vote! P.S, please update The Interloper's Adventure. Its a great story, but I have one critique. Blaster bolts should do nothing to Carapace Armor (in one of the novels, Carapace Armor stops a direct hit from a Bolter). It can also withstand Heavy Stubber fire, meaning it can stop 50 caliber rounds. Please fix this.**

**loltuan123: The Primordial Reviewer hath returned! One thing, YOU. DIRTY. SNITCH. That damn commissar put me in a Penitent Engine!**

**TheJoker96Italia: Thank you for the review and vote!**

**Shadow Shogun Lord: Thank you for the vote!**

**Guest: Thank you for the vote!**

**LordFrancis93: Thank you for the vote!**

**robertmusical12: Thanks. I hope you stay for more.**

**Spartan-A312: Here you go, an update.**

**Tony McNucklz: Thanks for the review and kind words! First of all, let's clear some things up. Lukas isn't an adult, he's still in his mid-teens. Older fluff also notes that one can become a Space Marine up until middle age. I believe there were some old White Dwarf campaigns where Black Templars (insert autistic screaming here) recruit middle aged PDF troops. Even then, the risks are high and said recruits are not easily molded. The optimum age bracket is 12-18, when the body is still undergoing puberty. Moving on, Lukas will not receive Astartes augmentations in time for the crossover to begin. He'll enter this separate universe as a baseline human, albeit a genetically modified one with very special genes (more on that later).**

**AMW Riptide: Thank you for the vote!**

A massive Chaos Marine stood before them. His ornate armor bore golden engravings and unholy runes, symbolizing the extent of his ten thousand year corruption. In his right hand was a massive chainsword, which growled like a daemon as it spun. Lukas raised his weapon and fired, hitting the traitor's chest. Everyone else followed suit, unleashing a maelstrom of automatic Bolter fire. Some rounds pinged off the armor, but most tore through weak points and exposed flesh. A growl escaped the Chaos Marine's lips as he rushed forward, generating dozens of afterimages in his wake. The Krieger's eyes narrowed, examining the chainsword's unique tilt and grip. _Opponent will attempt low slice. Jump to evade. _He unsheathed his bayonet, using a reverse-grip to wield the fearsome ten inch blade. Just as he predicted, the traitor used a low slice. _Now. _He jumped into the air, catching his opponent off guard. Enhanced adrenaline slowed his perception of time, allowing more delicate maneuvers to be planned and performed. _Strike at the jugular. Push upwards into the skull. Kill your opponent, show no mercy. _Lukas plunged his bayonet into the traitor's neck, which spewed tainted blood like a fountain of gore. He twisted the blade and pushed upwards, tearing through armor and flesh. The Krieger heard a small clink as his bayonet hit bone, undoubtedly the lower jaw. _For Krieg. _He pushed harder, cutting into the skull. His opponent roared in pain and attempted to swat him away. Lukas withdrew his bayonet and grabbed the traitor's right pauldron. With a grunt, he propelled himself upwards. _Use bolt pistol. Aim for the head. _The Krieger fired ten rounds at his opponent's head. Each round pinged off the ceramite/plasteel composite, leaving massive dents in their wake. He landed with a dull thud and rolled away.

"Squad, open fire!" A hail of semi-automatic Bolter fire impacted the Chaos Marine, piercing armor and flesh. _If I can gain enough distance, the Exitus Rifle will become a viable option. _Lukas moved backwards, aiming for the traitor's head.

**"NO!" **A throwing knife bisected his Exitus Rifle, rendering the powerful weapon useless. _Damn it__, I was starting to like that rifle. _**"BROTHERS, NOW!"**

"Seventeen contacts approaching from the northeast. ETA twenty seconds." Indris said.

"Where?" The Krieger questioned.

"Upper rooftops, to the lef..." Indris was backhanded into a wall, rendering him unconscious.

"I'll deal with it. Put that bastard down." Lukas climbed an old maintenance ladder, which groaned under his weight. Several handlebars disconnected, hitting the ground with a loud clang. _One Watchmaster versus seventeen traitor marines. Those are low odds. _The Krieger poked his head above the ladder, allowing a Bolter round to zip past him. He ignored the shock and sprinted for cover. _Those ventilation units stood up to a Stalker Bolter. I'll use them as cover. _He ducked behind the nearest unit, throwing a fragmentation grenade to confuse his opponents. It seemed to work.

Lukas readied his lasgun and emerged from cover. A horde of Chaos Marines leapt across the rooftops, brandishing their wide assortment of deadly weaponry. Heresy-pattern Bolters, Meltaguns, and plasma pistols were the most common armaments amongst them. None of his armor, save for the carapace chestpiece, could reliably stop such weaponry. Three traitors held Phosphex blasters, dangerous relics of the Great Crusade. He shook his head and fired, downing two Chaos Marines with twelve shots. Roars of fury came from their brothers. _I'll use a krak grenade once they're twenty feet away. Until then, my lasgun should be sufficient. _He continued firing, aiming for gaps between the armor plating. Bolter rounds and plasma orbs zipped past him. _Deploy grenade in three, two, one. _The Krieger threw a krak grenade and ducked. Two seconds later, the grenade detonated. His ears rung from the blast. _Check for survivors. _Lukas felt a burst of hot air, burning his left arm and stomach. Without thinking, he moved to the left. Several streams of phosphex incinerated the ventilation unit, leaving small embers that melted through the rooftop.

"THAT'LL TEACH HIM! FOR KHORNE!" A demonic voice bellowed. The Krieger hid behind a large pipe, waiting for an opportunity to strike. His opponents rushed forward, their weapons readied. _Wait for it...now._

Lukas stood up and fired his lasgun, wounding six of the ten Chaos Marines. They discarded their ranged weapons and rushed forward, combat knives at the ready. The Krieger rolled under a swipe and follow-up thrust, using his bayonet to inflict deep stab wounds. A Sol-pattern combat knife impacted his arm, tearing through armor and flesh like paper. It left a massive laceration that wept copious amounts of blood. He cursed and moved in for a thrust, hitting the traitor's two hearts. Lukas avoided a flurry of swipes and thrusts, striking whenever he could. Another blade sliced his upper thigh, reducing his movement speed to a limp. The Krieger grunted in annoyance and continued fighting. One by one, the traitors fell. Blood loss made him unbalanced and tired, allowing the remaining Chaos Marines to strike him. Blood poured from his chest, shoulder, arms, and legs. He powered through the injuries, forcing his body to move through sheer Kriegan willpower. _One traitor remaining. _Lukas drew his bolt pistol and fired, destroying his opponent's knees with five well-placed shots. The Chaos Marine grabbed a Phosphex blaster and let loose a stream of white flame. The Krieger rolled sideways, evading his fiery death. He killed the traitor with a bayonet to the head, cutting through reinforced bone and weak brain matter. A roar of anguish filled the air.

**"BROTHERS! DIE, CORPSE WORSHIPER! **The Krieger groaned in annoyance as Bolter rounds impacted the rooftop. While some missed, others detonated a few feet away. The small explosions forced him back, fracturing several bones. He couldn't walk.

Lukas crawled towards the edge of the rooftop, using his one good arm to drag his body. _Those extra drills paid off. For once, a Caidan's advice was correct. _He saw the corpse of his former opponent, it's exposed head riddled with lacerations. Oriar moved forward, his arms outstretched.

"Sir, jump down." Lukas rolled off the rooftop, landing in Oriar's arms. The Astartes set him down and produced a healing agent. "Hold still."

"More Chaos Marines inbound. We need to move." Skaban said.

"Use the rooftops." The Krieger said. His voice was strained.

"Yes sir. I'll take point." Castiel said. Oriar hoisted Lukas over his shoulder.

Lukas raised his bolt pistol and fired, hitting the eye lens of a Chaos Marine. The traitor's corrupted body stiffened before impacting the ground. Oriar leapt across a rooftop, cracking rockcrete upon landing. Indris paused to provide suppressing fire before rejoining the squad. Alpha-9 was within seeing distance, allowing him to assess its inhabitants. _Lasfire from the windows, Heavy Bolter fire from the rooftops. The guardsmen themselves appear to be a mix of Kriegers, Catachans, and Tallarn Desert Raiders. Thank the Emperor. _To his knowledge, most Kriegers were deployed to heavily entrenched areas in the financial district. They would see intense combat and thousands of casualties, something he envied them for. Lukas saw five Ultramarines amongst the guardsman, their hulking bodies covered in blue Terminator armor. They killed dozens of Chaos Marines with Storm Bolters and power swords.

"Destroy those traitors. For the Emperor." Lukas ordered. Bolter fire impacted the traitor's exposed backs, killing some and wounding others. Ten Chaos Marines sprinted towards them, covering forty meters in one seconds. "Move back, gain defensive positions. Indris, provide cover fire."

"Yes sir." Indris switched his Bolter to full-auto and fired, halting the advance for a brief moment. He moved backwards, pausing only to reload.

"KILL! MAIM! BURN!" A corrupted voice screamed. Lukas primed a fragmentation grenade, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Open fire." The Krieger threw his grenade, killing three traitors and wounding the rest. His squad took advantage of the distraction.

"Phosphex stream, incoming." Indris said. Lukas rolled to the side, avoiding the stream of death that coursed above him. Some of his wounds reopened, smearing blood over the hot rockcrete.

"DIE!" A Khorne Berserker sprinted towards them, his chainsword at the ready. Indris dodged a thrust and fired his Bolter, shredding his opponent's chest.

"They're attempting to flank us." Castiel said.

"Skaban, deal with them. The rest of you, advance." Lukas said. Oriar moved to pick him up. "No, I can walk."

Lukas pushed himself up and limped forward. He readied his lasgun and prepared to fire, his finger moving towards the trigger. Six shots impacted a Chaos Marine's abdomen, piercing ceremite and corrupted flesh. The traitor dropped his weapon and collapsed. The Krieger repeated this action multiple times, destroying several traitors. His squad followed, preventing him from being flanked. _Ammunition's low. Take cover and reload. _He ducked behind a large pipe and reloaded, placing the dead power cell in his ammunition pouch. After ten minutes, it would be fully charged and ready for use. _If my estimations are correct, one hostile remains. _A demonic scream filled the air. _Never mind. _Lukas emerged from cover and rejoined his squad, who helped him down a fire escape ladder. The group of Terminators lowered their Storm Bolters and rushed to meet them.

"Who's in charge here?" One asked.

"Sir, the Krieger is in charge." Castiel said. The Terminator nodded.

"Follow me. Our Apothecary can tend to your wounds."

Lukas was treated by a power-armored Apothecary, who used his white Narthecium with startling efficiency. The Krieger's wounds and damaged equipment were both mended in thirty seconds. After a quick medical scan, he was free to go. His first course of action was to find Alpha-9's leader, which took ten minutes of searching to accomplish. Eight Krieg Grenadiers sat against the metal wall, their Hellguns kept close by. As he passed, they stood up and saluted. _It's refreshing to see another Krieger. _He nodded and continued his search. He rounded a corner and saw Castiel, who walked alongside a massive Terminator. Both Astartes turned to face him.

"You must be Lukas. Come, we have much to discuss." The Terminator said. His voice was course and deep.

"What are your concerns?" Lukas asked.

"Transportation of our wounded. Who will take them?"

"Our base has several APCs, including Land Raiders. I can radio for more if need be." Castiel replied.

"Good." The Terminator paused. "Watchmaster, you were sent here to collect supplies, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then I will aid you. There are several armories within a one-mile radius of this building."

"Thank you for informing us." Castiel said. They took a left, ending up in a small conference room.

"We can discuss the finer details in here."

**Sector F-1, with Dresden...**

The Land Raider's turbine engines roared in fury as the tank sped forward, crossing thirty meters with each passing second. It's side mounted weaponry laid waste to entire platoons of Chaos Marines, shredding through ceremite, plasteel, and rockcrete like wet paper. Dresden fired the pintle mounted Storm Bolter at a barricade forty feet away, destroying it with a stream of concentrated fire. He winced as a Bolter round glanced his arm, drawing a small amount of blood that would clot in seconds. _That must be a sniper. I believe he's inside that restaurant to the right. _The Scout Marine activated his micro-bead, alerting the closest gunner.

_"Sniper in that restaurant to the right, one hundred meters out, over." _He said.

_"Providing fire, over." _One of the side-mounted lascannons roared to life, unleashing a beam of bright red energy. The restaurant was annihilated.

Dresden resumed his previous activities, killing several squads with five second bursts. The driver had entered an alleyway to loose the Chaos Marines, crushing several dumpsters and trash cans under the tank's plasteel/rubber treads. The Scout Marine raised his arm, catching a large metal fragment that would've entered his jugular. He discarded it and checked the Storm Bolter. _Empty. _Dresden moved to reload, but a gauntleted hand stopped him. Acting solely on instinct, he drew his bolt pistol and fired twice. Both rounds penetrated, detaching the Chaos Marine's hand from his body. The traitor fell backwards in shock. _Reload the gun. _He slammed a fresh magazine into the Storm Bolter, grinning as he chambered a round. The Scout Marine squeezed the trigger, pumping dozens of Bolter rounds into his opponent. _Keep your guard up. Do not let that happen again._ For the next ten minutes, the Land Raider drove through several alleyways to evade its pursuers.

_"NX __gas detected. Seal the tank and equip PPE, over." _Dresden closed the gunner's hatch, checking twice to make sure it was locked, and walked into the deployment room. This area was dedicated to troop transport, and had multiple seats for extra comfort. He sat in the one empty seat, grabbing his Bolter from the weapon rack. He was surrounded by fellow Scout Marines, dozens of guardsmen, and two Veteran Sergeants. Everyone was deathly silent.

"ETA's fifty seconds. Prepare yourselves." The Vox speaker boomed. Everyone grabbed their weapons and stood up.

"Check your equipment. If anything is wrong, notify me." One of the Veteran Sergeants said. His voice was course and emotionless.

"Yes sir!" Dresden checked his weapons for any faults. To his relief, none were present. He equipped his gas mask and stood at attention.

"We're here. Deploy in three, two, one." The tank's deployment hatch, a thick slab of adamantium and ceremite, opened with a quiet groan. White gas flooded the cabin.

Dresden rushed into the open, his Bolter raised and ready to fire. Each Scout Marine formed a perimeter around the tank, protecting it's cargo and vulnerable insides. If thrown into the deployment room, a single krak grenade could spell death for a Land Raider. Hundreds of these majestic vehicles had met their end in a similar fashion. Upon depositing its cargo, the tank sped off into the distance. Both Veteran Sergeants took point, moving with practiced speed and precision. To him, it showed the result of constant warfare. _Most Astartes are five __hundred__ years old upon joining the 1st Company. Those sergeants must have decades of combat experience. _As dictated by the Codex Astartes, a Chapter's first company housed it's finest soldiers. They alone had the privilege of donning Terminator Armor, a scaled-up version of standard power armor. Dresden hoped to one day join their ranks, but he was aware of the low odds. Most Astartes died in battle before reaching two hundred, let alone five hundred. One of the Veteran Sergeants raised his hand, signaling the group to stop. They had reached the end of the alleyway.

"Phase one. Go in pairs."

"Bounding." Dresden ran across the streets with a Catachan, who held a plasma rifle in his gloved hands. The Scout Marine's twin hearts pumped adrenaline through his muscles, increasing his speed to seventy miles per hour. Surprisingly, the guardsman was able to keep up. Upon reaching another alleyway, he activated his micro-bead. _"Sir, the area is clear, over."_

_"Copy that. Sending another pair, over."_ The Veteran Sergeant responded. Dresden saw two Astartes running across the street, their muscular forms reaching speeds of fifty miles per hour. It took several minutes for everyone to cross.

Dresden grabbed a Chaos Marine and snapped his neck, killing the traitor in microseconds. Another Scout Marine dragged the corpse into an alleyway, preventing it from being seen. With that out of the way, everyone advanced forward. They had been trekking through alleyways for the past half hour, evading patrols and killing traitors. _We should be close. _The Veteran Sergeant raised his hand, forcing everyone to stop. _I guess we're here._

"Phase two. Find the artillery and look for survivors." The Scout Marines saluted and moved forward, crossing a wide street in seconds. A massive skyscraper stood before them.

Dresden opened a metal door and scanned the room, looking for any signs of life. To his dismay, their were none. The Scout Marine was about to leave, but a certain smell caught his attention. _Blood. _He saw the rotting corpse of a Krieg Grenadier, her blue greatcoat soaked with blood. Multiple dents and slashes adorned her carapace armor, indicating heavy combat. He took note of the eight fist-sized holes in her torso and drew his combat knife. _Let's see how you died. _Dresden cut a thin strip of flesh off her arm, about the size of an index finger in length. He placed it inside his mouth and swallowed, activating the Omophagea. This geneseed organ allowed him to view the dead's memories via ingesting their flesh. He closed his eyes.

_612295193-Theresa blasted a heretic with her Hellgun, grinning as the bastard fell to his knees and died. Autogun rounds pinged off her armor, reminding the Krieger that several heretics were still alive. She would fix that. Theresa hid behind a desk and threw her last fragmentation grenade. A second later, it detonated. Screams of the dying filled her ears. She emerged from cover and moved forward, executing any survivors with a boot to the throat or head. _

_"Filthy Imperial!" The Krieger dodged a burst of autogun fire. Her attacker was a male in his late forties, clad in full carapace armor and holding a shortened autogun. A sheathed power sword adorned his back. "You cannot win here!"_

_"Die, heretic." Theresa fired her Hellgun twice, damaging the bastard's chestpiece. She was about to fire a third shot, but her Hellgun ran dry. The heretic noticed this and fired his weapon. She winced as high caliber autogun rounds tore through her gut._

_"Your false god can do nothing! He will fall and you will die!" She drew her bayonet and charged, knocking the heretic off his feet. The Krieger stabbed him in the gut and twisted, tearing through several organs._

_"Submit." Theresa pushed her blade upwards, leaving a massive gash. As the heretic cried in pain, she reached into the wound and grabbed his stomach. She crushed the organ and pulled, removing it from the body. The bastard became unnaturally still. "Filth."_

_Theresa grabbed the heretic's autogun. Its barrel was ten inches long, making it illegal on most Imperial planets. She detached the magazine and examined its rounds. They were 6.8mm armor piercing, explaining why her carapace armor failed to stop them. The Krieger grabbed six magazines and continued moving. If she didn't find her squad, the mission would be impossible to complete. She believed they were on level ninety, but their was no way to certain. __A photon flash grenade landed near her boot, forcing her behind a desk. The grenade detonated, filling the hallway with a blinding light. Theresa switched her autogun to burst mode and fired down the hallway. A heretic cried out in pain as five rounds impacted his chest. She moved into the open and fired again, downing another rebel. Enemy lasfire forced her back into cover. Despite their nickname of "flashlight", lasguns were very powerful weapons. A single shot held the same power as a 12.7mm autogun round, able to punch through meters of rockcrete and tear off limbs._

_"Move through the restroom, flank her left side." A voice whispered. The Krieger switched her autogun to full-auto and waited. Her augmented ears could pick up several footfalls. She waited until the first heretic revealed himself, and fired at him. A stream of bullets mowed down four heretics and wounded the rest. _

_"Shit! Move back!" Another voice yelled. She entered the restroom and fired again, killing most of the retreating heretics. Only one remained. He screamed in horror, emptying his entire magazine into her torso. Each round bounced off her armor._

_"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck..." She fired a single shot, hitting his stomach. The bastard cried out in pain, then smiled. "Got you." He grabbed a bolt pistol._

_"Scheisse." Eight rounds impacted her chest. The first two were stopped, but the rest made it through. Upon entering her rib cage, each bolter round detonated with the force of a small grenade. The Krieger fell to the floor, her strength rapidly fading. Her last action was to fire her autogun, killing the heretic._

_Theresa died with a smile. She had atoned for her ancestor's crimes, and would join the Emperor in paradise. Her eyes slowly closed. A golden light filled her vision._

Dresden opened his eyes. His "dream" had informed him of one thing: the Krieger's squad was on floor ninety. He stood up and left the room, hoping to find a working elevator. _If I can find a rebel, they'll be able to...wait, something's moving. _The Scout Marine raised his hand, blocking a stubber round aimed for his heart. The rebel froze in shock before discarding his autopistol and running away. Dresden rushed forward and grabbed the traitor, lifting him up by the neck.

"Where are the loyalist forces?" He questioned.

"Go fuck yourself, Imperial mutant." The rebel growled. Dresden shook his head.

"Wrong answer." He grabbed the traitor's wrist and squeezed. "In four seconds, your wrist will shatter. Tell me what I wish to know."

"No." He tightened his grip, shattering the radius and ulna. The traitor screamed in pain.

"Where are the loyalist forces?" The Scout Marine unsheathed his combat knife. "I can make your death quick or slow. It all depends on how you answer."

"Okay, okay! I'll tell you!" _Pitiful scum._

"Speak."

"They're on the upper levels! Please don't kill me, please..." Dresden swiped his combat knife sideways, removing the traitor's genitals. He dropped the screaming man and slit his throat.

"Such a pitiful display."

Dresden was thankful to be alive. A lack of working elevators and safe stairwells forced him to use the vents, which at first seemed like a good decision. This hypothesis was quickly disproved by the sheer volume of hidden plasma charges. He was able to evade most of them, but a small minority were triggered via proximity. Third/fourth degree burns covered his face and left arm, causing great pain whenever he moved. He punched a vent grate and squeezed through, landing on the tile floor with a dull thud. _Check for hostiles. _The Scout Marine grabbed his Bolter and looked for any signs of life. _Bloody rags on that desk. _Dresden walked over and picked one up. It was still fresh. He discarded it and moved on, hoping their were still survivors.

"Brother?" The Scout Marine turned around. A wounded Intercessor stood ten feet behind him. His blue power armor was marred with dents, small holes, and blood. "Are you an Ultramarine?"

"I am an Ultramarine Scout." The Intercessor collapsed, grunting as he fell. Dresden rushed to aid him.

"Bring my geneseed to the Chapter." With a final breath, the Intercessor perished. _His pulse is gone. _Dresden unsheathed his combat knife, cutting a small hole in the corpse's neck.

"Your name shall be remembered." The Scout Marine grabbed a small pouch from his utility belt. It contained four vials, a clear tube, and dozens of needles. He fastened a needle to the tube, creating a sturdy airtight seal. "Your death will lead to new life." He placed the tube inside the corpse's neck. _Five, four, three, two, one. _The needle broke through a wall of flesh, entering the first Progenoid Gland. Dresden attached the tube to a vial, pressing a small button to begin the extraction. A pale red liquid rushed through the tube.

Dresden placed both vials inside a ceramite box, securing them from any potential damage. The geneseed, which consisted of nanomachines, enhanced germ cells, and a spark of the Emperor's power, was held within a pale red liquid medium. If properly cultivated, the aforementioned ingredients could be used to make new Astartes implants. The Scout Marine locked the box and stored it in his pocket. With that out of the way, he took some ammunition from the dead Intercessor and continued onward. Fresh blood trails marred the tile floor, signalling the presence of life. One such trail led to a Krieg infantryman. His greatcoat was torn and battered, exposing dented flak armor beneath it. Dozens of holes adorned his stomach, right leg, and head. Dresden knelt down and removed the guardsman's mask, revealing a boy no older then twelve. _He's got a pulse. _The guardsman opened his eyes and stared at him.

"Hallway...th-thirty...heavy combat..." His voice was strained. "Please...kill me...c-can't fight..."

"I will grant you mercy." Dresden unsheathed his combat knife. "You have paid for the crimes of your ancestors. The Emperor forgives you."

"In death...peace." The Scout Marine swung his blade, decapitating the guardsman.

"A loyalist! Kill him!" He looked upwards. Five rebels stood ten feet away, their shortened autoguns and lascarbines pointed towards him.

Dresden sprinted towards them, his combat knife in hand. One slash bisected a rebel, cutting through flak armor and flesh like butter. Another slash killed four rebels and wounded another. The Scout Marine felt stubber rounds ping off his armored abdomen, leaving small bruises that healed in milliseconds. He rushed towards the last rebel and slashed upwards, cutting him in half. He wiped the blood off his blade and rushed down the hallway. The sound of weapons fire became audible to his enhanced ears. _That confirms it. The Kriegers are alive. _Dresden ran faster.

"FOR THE PRINCE!" A Noise Marine readied his Sonic Blaster and fired, sending deadly sound waves towards him. The Scout Marine sidestepped, avoiding the attack. "NOISE! SWEET NOISE!"

Dresden switched his Bolter to full-auto and fired. Each Bolter round embedded itself into flesh and detonated, causing massive internal damage. The Noise Marine cried out in ecstasy and fired again. He didn't move fast enough, and was pushed into a wall. Arteries and muscles threatened to break under the pressure. _I'll have to get close. In a long range fight, his weaponry beats mine. _The Scout Marine activated his adrenaline glands, which pumped their contents into his enhanced musculature. He got up and rushed forward at seventy miles per hour, his combat knife and bolt pistol at the ready. His attacker smiled and drew a curved power sword. _One hit means death. Avoid at all costs. _Dresden rolled under a swipe and fired his bolt pistol. Each round left medium-sized dents, weakening the ceramite. He took advantage by using his combat knife, cutting through the compromised armor. The Scout Marine dodged slashes and thrusts, inflicting horrible wounds upon his opponent. With a final Bolter round to the forehead, the Noise Marine died. He continued running.

"Push forward!" A voice yelled. _That must be the Kriegers. _Dresden cut through another group of rebels, mortally wounding them with lightning-fast swings and slashes.

"Keep those fuckers pinned!" The Scout Marine rounded a corner, entering hall thirty. Dozens of Chaos Marines turned around and charged.

Dresden moved backwards and grabbed a plasma grenade from his belt. It was cylindrical in shape and had numerous blue highlights. A metal pin was present near the standard golden Aquila, a symbol that dominated most Imperial equipment. When detonated, a plasma grenade would release superheated hydrogen that burned with the fury of a star. Everything up to a light tank could be destroyed with such weaponry. He pulled the pin and waited for the right moment to strike. _Now. _After a brief millisecond, he threw the grenade and backed away. A blue flash temporarily blinded him, but his vision returned after several seconds of waiting. Most Chaos Marines were killed by the explosion, which severed limbs and melted through armor. The few that remained were close to death. He finished them off and continued moving.

Dresden winced as Bolter rounds exploded near him, creating multiple waves of shrapnel that dinged off his armor. He returned fire and took cover to reload, shoving the empty magazine into his utility belt. The Scout Marine turned around and fired upon a traitor, killing him with a single headshot. _They're trying to flank me. If I stay here, more will come. _He ran across the hallway, dodging hypersonic Bolter rounds and throwing knives. He entered a storage room and punched through the wall, revealing a hallway on the other side. Dresden ran through it and took a left, spraying the area with his Bolter. The Chaos Marines stood no chance. As they fell, he ran. _Those marks were caused by Hellguns. _His speed increased. Up ahead, a Krieg Grenadier was slaughtering his way through dozens of rebels. The guardsman blocked a haymaker and elbowed his opponent, breaking several regions of the skull. Faster than Dresden could see, the Krieger punched through the rebel's gut and tore out his stomach.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" The guardsman kicked another rebel in the groin, making him fall over in agony. Dresden raised his Bolter and fired upon a squad of incoming Chaos Marines.

"BLOO-" Dresden silenced him with one shot the the head. He moved past the Krieger and continued firing, downing half of the squad. He crushed a traitor's head and used his body as a human shield.

"YOU SON OF BI-" The guardsman raised his Hellgun and fired, sending a red beam of pure energy towards his opponent. It melted through armor and left a gaping hole. "B-bitch." The Chaos Marine collapsed.

"Guardsman, where is your squad?" The Scout Marine asked.

"The next hallway, my lord."

"Bring me to them."

**Sector I-4, with Lukas:**

Lukas thrust his lasgun forward, impaling a Chaos Marine with the bayonet. He pulled the rifle sideways, creating a massive hole in the traitor's stomach. _Begin the attack. _He reached into his opponent's stomach and pulled, removing the small intestines. A large hand grabbed his neck. Faster than one could blink, he was punched in the gut and kicked into a wall.

"Filthy mortal, let Chaos..." A Grenadier by the name of Hansel fired his Hellgun, killing the Chaos Marine.

"Are you injured, sir?" He asked. Lukas stood up and brushed himself off.

"I'm fine. Gather the platoon." The Grenadier saluted and ran off. Lukas' orders were to capture an armory and hold it until reinforcements arrived. To do this, he was given twenty five guardsmen.

"Sir, they're here." The Krieger nodded.

"Advance forward. We are nearing the objective."

Lukas has some experience in leading formations. During his third campaign, the platoon CO perished to artillery fire. Regimental command granted him temporary control of what little men remained. For two months, the Krieger led his troops on a march of victory. They moved from trench to trench, killing hundreds of traitors and sabotaging their equipment. For his actions, he was awarded the rank of Watchmaster. _The briefing mentioned these pipelines. If we follow them, it's a safe route to the armory. _He knew that "safe" often meant "ambush" or "secret kill zone", but who was he to question orders?

"Sir, auspex readings are scrambled. We're going in blind." Hansel whispered. This was troubling news.

"Irrelevant. Continue forward." The Krieger responded. A faraway glint caught his attention. "Sniper!" The platoon split into squads and hid behind the pipeline. Two Catachans weren't quick enough, and died via headshots.

"Sir, fifty meters northwest." Hansel reported.

"Get the Cadian Patterns." Seven rounds impacted his greatcoat, but did little to hurt him.

"Sir, auspexes are working again! A massive horde is coming this way, ETA five minutes!" An Elysian yelled.

"Acknowledged." Two Cadians sprinted towards him, their rocket launchers at the ready. "Fifty meters northwest. Give them hell."

"Yes sir." The Cadians aimed and fired, sending four krak rockets towards a building. A deafening boom filled the air, followed by a shockwave that shattered windows and pushed guardsmen backwards.

"Get back to your positions."

"Sir, enemy incoming!" A Catachan yelled.

The platoon raised their lasguns and waited. After dozens of agonizing seconds, a horde of rebel soldiers rounded a corner and charged forward. Rusted bayonets adorned their weapons, making him growl in anger. On Krieg, a rusted bayonet was punishable with two hundred lashes. Everyone began firing, downing thirty in the opening salvo. After one minute of shooting, the rebels got close enough for melee combat. At that moment, Lukas detached his bayonet and rushed forward. He moved from rebel to rebel, leaving a line of corpses in his wake. The Krieger switched to a reverse grip and plunged his blade into a traitor's skull, killing him. He turned around and kicked a rebel, breaking his ribs. Another attempted to strike him with his rifle, which he used as a club. Lukas dodged the strike and wrapped his arms around the man's hips, throwing him over his shoulder and onto the ground. Before he could end the man's life, a stubber round struck his helmet. The force of the impact disoriented him, allowing the rebel to drag him down. Lukas recovered immediately.

"Verpiss dich!" The Krieger got his opponent's hand in a wristlock, making him freeze. Bones snapped like twigs.

"You cunt!" The rebel yelled. Both men struggled for dominance, punching and kicking like flies in a spider's web. Lukas pushed his gloved thumb into the man's eye, making him scream in pain. He reached for his bayonet, which was dropped during the fighting, and stabbed his foe in the chest.

"That was my..." The Krieger rolled forward and grabbed his opponent. Before he could fire, a massive laceration was made on his neck. The rebel collapsed.

Lukas stood up and pushed forward, inspiring his men to do the same. They stabbed or shot any rebel in sight, ignoring gruesome injuries in favor of killing. As time passed, the horde thinned. Two guardsmen were killed.

Lukas was relieved to reach the armory. Several wooden crates were stacked upon metal racks, which groaned under the pressure. These racks were organized into aisles, each spaced ten feet apart. As his men fortified the building, some Grenadiers decided to get themselves "gifts." They came back with power swords, plasma pistols, Bolters, and more. The Krieger didn't care, after all, he had done the same thing several years ago. _I've always missed that plasma pistol. Might as well replace it._

"Hansel." The Grenadier rushed over and saluted. A bolt pistol adorned his hip. "You're in command."

"Yes sir, happy hunting."

Lukas opened a wooden crate, revealing his prize. One plasma pistol, it's leather holster, a maintenance kit, and five plasma cells were held in black foam to prevent damage. He placed the weapon inside his rucksack's outer right compartment, allowing him to quickly retrieve it in the heat of battle. The maintenance kit was stored inside his rucksack, and the plasma cells were placed in his utility belt's ammunition pouches. With a plasma pistol, he could now destroy anything up to a medium tank. _Jackpot. _The Krieger was about to leave, but another crate caught his eye. It contained two interchangeable barrels for his lasgun, allowing him to convert the weapon into a Hellgun or longlas. _This will be invaluable for future missions. _He placed both barrels inside his rucksack.

"Sir?" A male voice asked. It was his third in command, a Catachan by the name of Keled. "We found a relic from the 30th millennium. Hansel thinks you should have it."

"Show me." Keled revealed a sheathed short sword. It had multiple engravings in High Gothic, a language seldom used amongst the populace. "I don't know what the language is, but it seems important."

"Do not dishonor the Emperor's tongue." He drew his bayonet. "If you do, I will use this blade to castrate you."

"Yes sir." The Catachan saluted, gave him the sword, and rushed off.

"A power sword?" Lukas unsheathed the sword, revealing a beautiful silver blade. He pressed a red button on the hilt, igniting a pale blue power field. "Nice." Compared to modern-day power swords, which used inferior generators and weak metals, a 30th millennium variant was superior. It was forged with high-grade adamantium and sharpened at the molecular level, allowing the blade to cut through any armor.

Lukas sheathed the blade and placed it on his hip. _Not a bad find. _The Krieger restocked his ammunition reserves and continued onwards. If everything went according to plan, a supply convoy would arrive soon. He decided to pass the time by assisting his guardsmen, who boarded up doors and windows.

"Sir, the convoy's arrived. I've ordered them to take the heavy weapons first." Hansel said.

"Good. The ammunition is next."

"Yes sir." Hansel saluted and walked away. "Get the ammunition next! Prioritize Bolter rounds, plasma cells, and rockets!" He yelled.

**Five hours later...**

It took several hours to clear the warehouse. During that time, no traitor forces were spotted near their position. Lukas knew the bastards were planning something, but at the moment, he was incapable of stopping it. _Abaddon struck at the worst possible time. Cadia's forces were suffering from defeat, its fleets were damaged, and the possibility of another Black Crusade was dismissed. If only we had a Primarch. _The Krieger paused. Was this something even a Primarch couldn't fix? He doubted it. Comparing a son of the Emperor to Abaddon was the equivalent of placing a paraplegic in a boxing match.

"Damn traitors." He muttered.

Lukas walked past Hansel, who oversaw the building's fortification. Makeshift barriers, firing positions, and two machine gun nests were set up and ready for use.

"It's slipping!" A guardsmen said. He saw three Cadians struggling to lift a barricade.

"Move." The Krieger ordered. He cracked his knuckles and lifted. His augmented muscles strained under the weight, but got the job done. "As you were."

"Thank you, sir." One of the Cadians muttered.

Lukas watched as dozens of crates were loaded into light vehicles. If everything went as planned, they would be done in twenty minutes. _We've solved the munitions problem. That leaves food, water, and medicine. _Underground reservoirs, moisture, and human waste could be purified into drinking water, eliminating one of their many hardships. Food was stockpiled in bunkers and warehouses, making it easy to find. Medical supplies would be far more difficult.

"Sir, we found lascannons and mortars." A Kasrkin said. Lukas paused.

"How many?"

"Ten lascannons and fifty mortars. Each has enough ammunition to last for weeks." _We'll still need artillery, but lascannons and mortars have their uses. _

"Get them into the trucks."

"Right away, sir." The Kasrkin saluted and left. One minute later, a stream of ordinance flooded into the trucks. _Command will be pleased. _

"We're almost full." A driver said.

"Head to HQ." Lukas ordered.

"Yes sir." The driver turned around. "Load whatever you can!"

"Sir, the Captain wants to speak with you." Hansel said.

"Give me your radio." He took a moment to compose himself._ "This is Watchmaster Lukas, over."_

_"Watchmaster, your orders are to raid Hospital 37. We believe a large medical cache resides there, over."_

_"Is there anything else I should know?"_

_"Expect a small garrison of 15-28 traitors. One or two Chaos Marines may be present, but judging from your track record, they won't be a problem."_

_"Thank you sir, out."_ He turned to Hansel. "Prepare the men."

"Yes sir." The Grenadier rushed off.

Lukas searched through his mind, reciting paragraphs and passages from the Codex Astartes. _Chapter 4, __Section__ 2, Paragraph 12: To successfully carry out the assault of a fortified building, use all tools at your disposal. Method one is concealment. This method should be used when one wishes to expend minimal lives and resources. Use concealed areas to sneak past defenses. Such areas include sewers, alleyways, debris piles, buildings, etc. Competent foes will patrol these areas or lay traps. Always consider the risk of alarms, auspexes, automated defenses, land mines, tripwires, enemy patrols, and more. Disable these defenses when you can (see Chapter 4, Section 1, "Disarming Traps and Automated Defenses"). __Method two is conventional assault. This method should be used when one has access to large quantities of men and resources. __Split your forces into two groups. Group one will gain advantageous positions and set up heavy weapons. Group two will form the main assault force. Group one will disable automated defenses with fragmentation grenades, and breach fortifications with krak grenades. Group two will use the enemy's confusion to advance forward. If the enemy attempts to organize, group one will provide overwatch. _The Krieger paused. Under normal circumstances, casualties would be of no concern to him, but their manpower was limited.

"Method one will have to do." The Codex Astartes provided millions of life-saving strategies, despite its flaws. He cracked his knuckles and left the room.

Lukas moved like a wolf stalking its prey. Every step was carefully planned and executed, allowing him to move fast and make very little noise. He was followed by two Kasrkin, some of Cadia's toughest soldiers. _What I wouldn't do for a chance to spar with one. _He raised his fist, signalling them to halt. Dozens of meters ahead, a lone sentry walked past the alleyway. He was five foot seven in height and held a lasgun. The Krieger drew his power sword and walked forward, using the shadows as cover. Before the traitor could blink, hardened adamantium pierced his neck. A Kasrkin hid the corpse behind a dumpster, ensuring nobody saw it. _They'll notice he's gone. _Lukas returned to the shadows.

"One of the warehouses was raided again. This shit needs to stop." A female voice said.

"I know. Those damn loyalists have been a thorn in our side for days now." A male voice replied.

"Perturabo needs to bomb this steaming pile of fuck." Lukas paused._ He's behind this? Shit._

"Keep preaching-." He pulled both traitors into the alleyway, killing one with a kick to the head.

"Leave him alive." The Kasrkin saluted and punched the traitor's head, knocking him out. "Bring him back to to Alpha-9."

"Yes sir."

**Sector F-1, with Dresden...**

Dresden was very happy at the moment. Two hundred artillery pieces (most of them Basilisks and Earthshakers), five hundred longlas rifles, and a squad of Grenadiers stood before him. _Transportation will be an issue. If I could find a stairwell or elevator, that would make things a lot easier. _He activated his micro-bead.

_"Brother sergeant, this is Dresden. I have found the artillery, location F-1B 90, over."_

_"I see. Do you know of any potential routes, over." _

_"Most of the stairwells and elevators are blocked. I got in through the vents, over."_

_"Unblock them, over."_

_"Yes sir, out." _Dresden turned to face the Grenadiers. "Gather your remaining explosives."

"Yes, my lord."

Ten krak grenades detonated with the force of a small artillery shell, destroying a debris pile and making a path. Multiple guardsmen rushed through, either tending to the wounded Grenadiers or hauling artillery pieces away. _Once we take care of our supply shortages, phase three can begin. From what I heard, Lukas is fixing that right now. _Dresden admired the Krieger's inhuman skill and unwavering bravery, which allowed him to best entire Chaos Marine squads and rebel platoons. Very few could ever hope to match him.

"My lord, I bring news regarding the artillery." A Catachan said.

"Report."

"98% of the artillery is operable. There is enough ammunition to last for several hours of sustained fire. It will take ten point nine minutes to transport the artillery back to base."

"Dismissed." The Scout Marine said. _I expected less ammunition and more broken artillery. _He stood guard near the doorway and waited. "It has begun."


	4. Author Announcment

**Hello, my glorious readers. I'm sorry about the unofficial hiatus, but family matters/school/exercise forced my attention away from writing. A new chapter will be up in a few weeks to a month. If you think that's too long to wait, let me explain why. I have Tourettes Syndrome and OCD, which makes writing super difficult. If I don't reread every word and every line I write, things go bad. And by bad, I mean anxiety attack bad. Be thankful that I'm even working on it. By the way, this only applies to any impatient people, since most of my readers are actually decent. For that, I thank you. Fanfiction, I'm back in business.**

**PS: For any backpack enthusiasts out there, I've been looking for the legendary Arc'Teryx Charlie Pack. If you've got any leads on a website/store that sells it, either PM me or comment. Thanks. **


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